Black Magician Trilogy: 100 Themes Challenge
by StuffRocksInnit
Summary: 100 Themes Challenge for Black Magician Trilogy. Many characters, many pairings, both canon and non-canon probably . No. 30: Under The Rain. "The rain had almost drowned the Guild gardens, placing them under a constant barrage of assaulting water."
1. Introduction

**A/N/: Hi. I haven't written anything for BMT before, and something bigger is in the works. But for now, please enjoy this series of small fics (if you can call these fics, taking into account their size) inspired by the 100 Themes challenge from LJ.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own BMT.**

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Theme: Introduction

Characters: Akkarin and Lorlen, random OC.

Setting: Pre-Trilogy.

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"Welcome, class. Today you will all be continuing with learning control. Your teachers are now here to collect you."

Lord Markin sits down, and the novices rise, following their teachers to separate rooms. That is, all apart from two.

Markin looks up. "Are you still here?" he enquires kindly.

One novice stares and does not speak. Obviously he is still here, otherwise he would be elsewhere.

The other hesitates, then squeaks, "I mastered control, Lord Markin."

"Oh!" Markin cries. "Excellent. Well, I'm afraid there's not much for you to do for now. Read a book, or something." He pauses, then adds, "Or maybe you could introduce yourselves." He looks expectantly at the novice who spoke before.

"I-I'm Lorlen," the novice says quietly.

"Akkarin," the silent one says, reluctantly.

"Brilliant," Lord Markin smiles. "I'm sure you'll become firm friends, hmm?"


	2. Love

**A/N/: Back again. These are quite fast updates, but then small fics are my thing. I can knock them off in twenty minutes, you'll be glad to know. **

**The words/phrases in brackets and italics are what Tayend really thinks, but can't admit, just in case you're wondering.**

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Theme: Love

Characters: Dannyl/Tayend

Setting: The Novice

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Love is a strange thing, many people say. Tayend finds he believes this, as he looks at his companion (_desire_), the man he would now call his friend (_only need_).

He is happy (_breathless_) when he is around. The things he says, the jokes and the comments make him smile (_and ache inside_).

Dannyl is surely a good man (_one in a million_). Tayend has been travelling with him and helping him now for only a few months (_feels like forever_) and it has been nice (_the best time of his life_).

But they can never be anything more (_why?_). That would be wrong (_would it?_).

But he has to admit that Dannyl is quite handsome (_gorgeous_).


	3. Light

**A/N/: Another one here. A darker one, which is ironic as the theme is 'light'. But there you go.**

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Theme: Light

Characters: Lorlen

Setting: Pre-Trilogy

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The screens filter in the bright morning sunlight, the trees outside making it flicker slightly as it streams inside. It illuminates the dark bedroom, falling on the young man sleeping.

His eyelids flutter and he wakes, feeling the sun warm his face. He smiles. Something good happened last night.

Then he turns over.

The other side of his bed is slightly darker, but he can still tell that she's gone.

There is no note. Nothing. He sits up and quietly stares at where she was, last night. Last night, when she was so soft and warm in his arms...And now she's run away.

His chest feels tight. Is this his fault? What did he do to make her leave? They weren't a conventional couple, but it would have worked. He would have made it work.

But she obviously didn't believe in him enough.

He lies back down, facing the sun, trying to feel warm again. But she has left him cold.

He shuts his eyes, and a single tear runs down his face.

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**A/N/: Dark, yes indeed. I just wanted to give my idea of a reason for Lorlen never marrying. Of course, because he was in love with someone who didn't want him. Poor Lorlen, I love him really.**


	4. Dark

**A/N/: Last one before I go to bed today. I love this idea.**

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Theme: Dark

Characters: Sonea

Setting: The Magicians' Guild (book)

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She jumped. What was that? Something just moved, over there in that corner.

She at the corner, on the other side of the dark bedroom. Is there something there, or is it her imagination again?

She watches for a few more minutes, then sighs and shuts her eyes again.

Another small noise wakens her.

She pulls the bedclothes tighter. _It's just a mouse or something! _She says to herself, chiding herself for being so foolish. But, they wouldn't have mice at the Guild would they?

She shivers, staring again. What could that be?

She closes her eyes again, and when she opens them again it's morning, and she's almost completely forgotten being afraid of the dark.


	5. Seeking Solace

**A/N/: Hello. Back again today. Secretly writing in a Music lesson, hope you all enjoy.**

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Theme: Seeking Solace

Characters: Mayrie, Tayend

Setting: Pre-Trilogy

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When her servant opens the door, the last person she expects to see is him. But here he is, looking flustered, worried, distraught. She can tell he is on the verge of tears.

She leaps from her seat and crosses the room in almost one bound, taking him in her arms.

"Mayrie," he whispers, hugging her as well.

"Tayend," she says quietly, pulling back from him. "What are you doing here? What's wrong?"

His face becomes drawn. "I…I needed somewhere. Somewhere to go, and someone who would listen to me…I found something out. About myself."

Mayrie smiles. She thinks she knows what is coming next.


	6. Break Away

**A/N/: Sorry I haven't updated in a while, I've been ill and had a lot of stuff going on. Hope you enjoy.**

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Theme: Break Away

Characters: Dorrien, Rothen

Setting: Pre-Trilogy

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Wind whips their robes around their legs as they stand before the steps. One is young, only twenty. The other is older, going slightly grey around the temples.

"Do you really have to go?" the older man asks. "You've barely started living here as a magician."

"I want to go, father. I want to help people."

"They help people here…."

"But not commoners, father. Only people who can afford to pay. I will offer my services to everyone who needs them."

His father sighs. "You're just like your mother, Dorrien," he says quietly. His son's eyes fill with tears, but he hugs his father fiercely.

"I'll come back and see you, I promise I will!" he calls as he climbs onto his horse. His father just nods, smiles and waves. Dorrien turns the horse around and gallops away, through the Guild gates and on through the city.

_Free, _he thinks. _Finally free._


	7. Heaven

**A/N/: This one has a little bit of a strange setting, you may find it weird. Hope you enjoy though.**

**---**

Theme: Heaven

Characters: Lorlen, Akkarin, Sonea.

Setting: Post-Trilogy, as if Lorlen and Akkarin were still alive.

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Looking out of his window, he can see them, on the grass in front of the University. They look so happy and carefree, everything he wishes he could be, just for a minute. They have only few worries, only few responsibilities, none of them life threatening or important to the country.

This is why he envies them, because he has to deal with responsibility every day, every hour.

Ever since he became High Lord, his life has been full of nothing but work. Even before, when he was endlessly working as Administrator, he never felt this alone. He had Akkarin, most of the time, and Osen was always there too.

Now they are both distracted, Osen by his own duties as Administrator, and Akkarin by his new wife.

He wouldn't admit it to himself, but he envies them everything, Akkarin and Sonea. Because they have a small piece of heaven, and it's everything he always wanted, with her, so long ago. He can't help but feel bitter and abandoned, lonely.

The curse of the High Lord, forever surrounded by others, but always alone.


	8. Innocence

**A/N/: Hello. Sorry I haven't updated for a few days, I've been writing other things. This one is slightly longer than all the others, just because I loved the idea and wanted to play with it a little more.**

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Theme: Innocence

Characters: Akkarin, Dorrien, Rothen, mentions Lorlen.

Setting: Pre-Trilogy

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The Guild gardens were beautiful at this time of year. A young novice was relaxing on one of the small benches which were dotted around the paths.

Akkarin leaned back and stared up into the trees whose branches swayed hypnotically over his head. He sighed and closed his eyes, letting the dappled sunlight move over his face, breathing in the sweet summer air.

He had almost drifted off to sleep when he felt a tug on his robes. He opened his eyes and looked down to find a small round face staring up at him.

It was a small child, only about five or six. He had dark ginger hair and round, sparkling blue eyes that were currently staring at Akkarin in wonder. Akkarin stared back, surprised and rather at a loss as to what to do.

They stared at each other in silence for a while, then the small boy whispered quietly, "Saw you. Out of window."

Akkarin was bemused. What exactly do you say to that? So instead of saying anything, he simply nodded.

The child smiled. He whispered, a little louder this time, "What name?"

"Akkarin," Akkarin replied, still bemused.

The child smiled again, as if this information made him incredibly happy. "I Dorrien," he said shyly.

"Nice to meet you," Akkarin said, still slightly confused.

"Dorrien!" a voice called from somewhere close. The little boy looked guilty.

"Daddy coming. He not find, though. I hide," he looked at Akkarin very seriously. "You not tell. Must not. Akin not tell."

Akkarin was about to point out that his name was not 'Akin', but Dorrien had already scampered away. Akkarin looked after him, still somewhat mystified as to the purpose of the child's visit.

At that moment, a man came into view around the hedge. It was Rothen, one of the younger Alchemists. He looked around and spotted Akkarin. He frowned and said, "I heard someone talking. Have you seen my son?"

"He went that way," Akkarin pointed. "He said he was going to hide."

Rothen sighed. "Exactly like him. Thank you." He walked off in the direction Akkarin had indicated. Akkarin watched him go, and he was still wearing the same perplexed look when Lorlen found him a few hours later, watching the trees above his head in a very pensive manner.


	9. Drive

**A/N/: Wow, thanks for the great response! Loads of story alerts, thanks loads. I hope to hear what you think on this one, I really enjoyed writing it. The idea took me loads of time to come up with, but once I had it the story flowed out, making it slightly longer than the other chapters, I believe. But you deserve it, of course! Enjoy.**

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Theme: Drive

Characters: I'm keeping this one secret until the end!

Setting: Pre-Trilogy

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Breathing normal. Check. Heart rate average. Check. Injury? None. _Of course, _said a snide voice in his head, _you're in a _practise _battle, you idiot. _Shut up, you're supposed to be thinking as if you were in a real battle! the rest of him snapped back. Talking to myself again, oh dear, was the next thought. Then a strike hit the edge of the rock he was hiding behind, and he tensed and pushed those thoughts away. _Time for action._

Making the signal to move to the rest of his group, he rounded the bolder and charged at the 'attacking' force. They began sending strikes right away. They were using all their power to send strikes and shield and, as he had planned, weren't concentrating on what was behind them.

His side sent strikes back, and the battle resumed from where it had been left with obvious rigour. Within ten minutes the opposing side were beginning to weaken. Various tricks and ruses had worn them down slowly, and combined with sending random strikes into the rocks in the hope of catching one of the enemy, their strength was waning. _Exactly as he had planned._

Then what they had been waiting for happened. The other side removed the shield behind them to focus more power on their attack. It was a stupid move, and one that he had anticipated. The other team captain didn't think about defence; his main concern was attack, and therein laid the weakness that would give them victory.

Right on cue, the remaining force from their team sprang out from the rocks behind the opposing team and sent some strikes into their midst. They were weak and so nobody was hurt, but it was enough to sting them through the barrier their teachers were holding.

"Halt! Practise over. Team A win."

"Yes!" came the shout. He smiled as he was slapped on the back and had his hand wrung by several of his team mates. He had led them to victory. He punched the air and joined in their silly celebratory dance.

Their teacher watched from a little way away, letting them enjoy the moment before they began to think about heading back to the Guild. He smiled at their dancing, but in particular he was watching their team captain.

There was something about him that the teacher had noticed. A certain spark, an instinctive knowledge of tactics and an ambition that set him apart from the rest. "A drive to do well, if you will," the man muttered to himself.

"Hmmm?" his companion turned to him, distracted from their charges by his friend's voice.

"That novice," the teacher nodded towards the one in question, "he has a certain something, don't you think?"

The other nodded. "Yes, now you mention it. He's very determined."

The magician smiled wryly. "Somehow, I think it's more than that. He'll go far, I think."

His friend laughed, then frowned. "What was his name again?" he asked his companion.

"Oh, Balkan, I think."

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**A/N/: Hahaha. I love that at the end. Such a throw away comment. I have to admit I was being quite lazy with this, and didn't actually name anyone. Hopefully not naming my narrator didn't throw anyone. I actually enjoyed writing as Balkan, although he'd probably be slightly different by the time the story rolls around. And yes, I do enjoy writing about things that are Pre-Trilogy the most. I will get out of the habit, I promise. Thanks for reading.**


	10. Breathe Again

**A/N/: Finally another one. I've been waiting to finish this one, because I wanted to finish it when I'd finished another chapter from another story. Hopefully you're not all too annoyed by the wait. **

**This one is another strange setting. Originally I thought that this would be an angsty one with Sonea/Akkarin when he dies at the end. Then I thought it would be more interesting to look at what Lorlen did when he was alone while Akkarin was in Sachaka. So I thought, through his healing profession, maybe he went to heal in the slums. Or something. Anyway, now he has a friend in the slums, who he goes to visit. And then this happens…**

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Theme: Breathe Again

Characters: Lorlen, Random OC's

Setting: Pre-Trilogy (When Akkarin is in Sachaka).

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The hem of my green robes brushed the dirty cobblestones lightly as we stepped out from under the shelter of Trenan's scrappy porch. It hadn't been much, cobbled together from a few scraps of wood and a few rusty nails, but it had provided some cover from the torrential downpour outside. I looked back and smiled, remembering the day I'd helped him to put it up, holding pieces in place with magic until they had been securely nailed in. People had come to watch in awe and slight fear, even though all I'd been doing was holding wood. Slum dwellers never lost their fear of magic, Trenan said, even though they may accept its help.

We continued on through the rain, heads bowed against the onslaught. We were heading for a tavern on the next street from Trenan's home. He wanted to see someone there, and probably get a pint as well. He was a nice man, but his one vice was his bol. He could certainly hold it, but that meant he loved to drink a lot of it. Being a magician, I couldn't drink more than a small flagon.

Dark figures flitted through the rain ahead. No one stared as I had covered my conspicuous green robes with a long black cloak. Only the bright green hem showed, brushing the ground slightly, but no one bothered to look closely enough to spot that particular detail.

We arrived at the tavern, and Trenan disappeared inside. I resigned myself to waiting outside under the tavern's tiny porch. People rushed by, trying to escape the rain. I could hear laughter and shouting from inside the tavern, and the raucous sound of bar music.

Suddenly someone grabbed my arm. I jumped and jerked away from them, preparing to strike out or fend off whoever it was. I stilled as I found myself looking into the face of a sodden, terrified woman. She stared at me with glazed eyes, then moaned and fell to her knees. I was by her side instantly, holding her shoulders tightly.

"What is the matter?" I asked her urgently. Her skin was pale as death and she looked fevered.

"My daughter…" she moaned, the last syllable turning into a long, drawn out moan of despair.

"What's wrong with her?" I asked.

"Drowned…" she moaned, rocking and hugging herself.

"Ah. Oh." I couldn't think of anything else to say.

The woman rocked more, then suddenly keeled over. Her eyes closed and she slumped onto the ground. I looked at her for a second before leaping into action. I checked her breathing and circulation. Nothing. She lay as if dead. I extended my senses into her body and found that she was still alive, just. Coming back to the real world, I flipped her over onto her back and began to try and resuscitate her.

The minutes rolled by slowly, but she didn't show any sign of improvement. Trying to help her had turned into a battle I was slowly finding I couldn't win. _Breathe again,_ I begged her, _please, breathe again. _

People had gathered around us by now, talking in agitated voices, waving hands and staring. They didn't know what was going on, and they were all slightly scared. No one dared interfere, but no one knew whether they should or not. Trenan appeared from inside the tavern and talked to those around us, explaining that I was a healer, that I was qualified.

She still wasn't breathing. I felt the sorrow and defeat of losing a patient slip over me. She wasn't going to make it.

Then, suddenly, she gasped, coughed. Coughed, sat up. All those around us gasped in amazement. The woman whimpered and clutched my arm. "It's alright," I told her. "You'll be fine now." The woman sniffed and clutched me tighter. I smiled and helped her up. Someone rushed out of the crowd and she was accepted into their arms. I let her go willingly. She would be fine now, just as I said.

Trenan burst from the crowd. "What happened?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Nothing. I just saved her. That's all."

Trenan shook his head in amazement. "I don't believe you," he muttered. I laughed, and we walked off into the rain.


	11. Memory

**A/N/: I actually love this one. I don't know why exactly, it just sprung upon me and had to be written. And it features my favourite ever piano piece, so I had an excuse to listen to that over and over. I think that's why this seems a little wistful, because that's the kind of tone of the piece.**

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Theme: Memory

Characters: Lorlen, Akkarin

Setting: Post-Trilogy, as if Akkarin and Lorlen had lived.

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Lorlen had never paid much attention to his rooms. Daily, all he saw in them was his closet and his bed (and the doors, of course). But now the time had come to move out of them, he found that he had a great number of things he had quite forgotten he possessed.

Like a piano.

It sat, unobtrusive, in a corner of the main room. Black and sleek, it was highly polished, so his servant must have remembered it. It was a full grand piano too, its lid propped up to reveal the many strings held taunt inside. He stared at it, trying to remember where it had come from. Furrowing his brow, he moved towards it and examined it, hoping to trigger some memory.

Flowers were engraved into the wood in a beautiful, intricate pattern. There was so much pattern work it seemed that one could stare at the instrument for hours without having examined all of it, and it all appeared to be different.

_There! _Lorlen thought. That was the memory. He had been given the piano exactly two years ago by Akkarin. The High Lord had received it as part of a gift to the Guild, and had taken a dislike to it both because of his awful piano skill and the flower design, which he claimed 'made his head hurt'. "You like pianos, Lorlen," he had said when he had appeared at the door, piano in tow. "Here you are, then." The servants had moved it carefully in, ignoring Lorlen's slight protests, and it had been set down where it now stood.

Lorlen smiled and lifted the lid of the keyboard, lifting the music stand gently to fit over it. Brushing his hands against the keys, he felt the same wonder he always had when he sat down to play. He pulled out the stool and sat down. He flexed his fingers, resting them on the white keys, remembering long forgotten lessons and performances. He had had a two hour lesson every day from age five until fifteen, when he had joined the Guild, and had spent much more time practising. Even when he joined the Guild, he had gone each Freeday to take a lesson with his teacher. Piano had once been his life. If he hadn't become a magician, he would have been a professional pianist.

Almost without thinking, he started a piece. 'Claire de Lune', it was called. The soft, soothing melody calmed all his nerves, which had been fragile since becoming High Lord, taking charge of the shattered Guild, and now moving into the High Lord's Residence. He played the piece once, then again, revelling in its joy and wonder.

He finished a second time, and sat for a while, resting his hands on the keys. Waves of memory assailed him, all related to piano at first, then different. Times with family, times at the Guild, times happy and sad.

_All times can be explained with music, _he thought. _And music is the food of memory._

He felt someone watching him and turned. Akkarin leaned in the doorway. He smiled at Lorlen's confused expression. "Now you know why I gave you that," he said quietly. Lorlen smiled slightly, then turned back to the piano and played again. He felt rather than heard Akkarin move to stand behind him. He watched his fingers move over the white and black.

White and black. The colours of their robes.

Smiling at this thought, Lorlen continued. Akkarin pulled a chair across, and sat listening to his best friend for hours. For a friendship repaired is the most beautiful kind, and music describes all times, happy and sad.

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**A/N/: Ok, so Debussy was never alive in Kyralia. But let's pretend, shall we? I just love Claire de Lune. And not because it's in Twilight. I loved it before then. **

**Kinda mushy, wistfully, cutesy ending. But I think it suits the music. If you want to read it again with Claire de Lune playing in the background, do try it. Let me know what you think.**

**Thanks for reading. xxx**


	12. Insanity

**A/N/: A very big hello to all you annoyed people out there! *ducks*Sorry I haven't updated. This one took a while.**

**This is really odd; I hope you'll forgive me. I just wanted to put BMT into something really AU, so I came up with gangs/underworld stuff. Dannyl transforms into a chav! No, it's not like that, but I warn you; main character death ahead. And awful deux ex machina, or whatever you call it. Major insanity lies ahead, dear friends. Enjoy.**

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Theme: Insanity

Characters: Dannyl, Tayend, Lorlen, Rothen, Akkarin, Sonea

Setting: AU

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It had started six months ago. Terror spread through the populace like plague. "The dead rise from their graves!" newspaper headlines screamed, "Dead return to land of the living!" We worked out that, in fact, they were right. A strange phenomenon had swept Kyralia; the dead rising from their graves, made anew.

I have to admit, it made good news for me. The trouble with gang warfare is that it's a risky business, and sometimes people get killed. We'd been clawing back territory we lost due to the Sachakan terrorist invasions a year back, but at a heavy price. The Guild had been called on to do something, and since some of them still aren't rotten as black apples, they agreed to move into action. So it was help, or lose Guild membership (and money).

It wasn't pretty. We lost some good fighters, including our leader. But now that didn't matter, see? They'd all been called back to life, even him. It was perfect. Or so we thought.

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Tonight, I'm going to rectify my mistake. I walk up the dark stairs, hands shaking, clutching the cold metal of the gun in my hand. Tay told me I was insane. I believe him now, as I shake in the dark. Tay cried, he begged me not to go. Don't leave me, don't leave me. I wish I'd stayed now, wish I'd caved and fallen into those beautiful arms. Wherever I went now, I would be lonely without him. Because I sure as hell wasn't coming back.

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Three months ago I'd talked to one of _them_ about it. Finally. Finally, I knew _why._ The journey into death, he said, was fine. Death was pleasant. But you had a choice. Leave once, or stay forever. The journey back to life was a living nightmare. He wouldn't describe it, but it was the reason so many of them came back like they did. He resisted, he said, didn't fall away and lose himself like so many others. But many others had lost everything. And now I knew, finally.

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Now I wish I didn't. I could be home now, in bed with Tay, listening to his soft breathing. Or out with the gang; smoking a fag on a street corner, sipping juice from the bottles Maren nicked off his uncle, getting high or drunk and doing crazy things like breaking into shopping centres or jumping off the highway wall into the river. We were mad in our free time, just celebrating being alive. Maybe soon I wouldn't be.

I had reached the door at the top of the stairs. You could only ascend by the workers' lift now. I pulled back the grate and climbed in. the lift groaned and rattled, the mechanism coughing and wheezing, and started upwards. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. I knew they would be up there. Sonea had left the leaflet proclaiming the early finish of the skyscraper, marked with a red cross. A red cross means a meeting, and I thought I knew just who she would be likely to meet.

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I suppose I better fill you in with some of the background. For a long while, the Guild has been a boarding school where rich and privileged kids with magic can study and become magicians. Upon graduation, they go on to high level jobs, lawyers and politicians, stuff like that. However, a long while ago, graduates found a more lucrative hobby to occupy their spare time. The criminal underworld. The Guild gangs started small, but were big business in one or two years. Now they hold monopoly over at least half the city, and are rivalled only by the Thieves. Now you didn't have to be a magician to join, but the chances of getting beyond a grunt or a thug with no magic were small. They heavy warfare with the Thieves required many grunts and many more thugs, so no one without magic really stood a chance.

I had been in the gang since I graduated, and I'm widely respected within it. I had travelled to Elyne on a 'business trip' two years ago to keep up the pretense of being an accomplished solicitor for my father, and had met Tayend. It was love at first sight, and Tay had moved back to Imardin with me at the end of the trip. He had threatened to leave when he discovered my dubious connections, but I had promised him it would not affect us and he'd grudgingly turned a blind eye.

I made this promise again to Rothen, and along with it a promise not to draw Rothen's innocent son, Dorrien, into the gangs. Rothen didn't manage to protect Sonea, however. Sonea came from Thief territory, and at the end of her time at the University, cut short by her involvement in the Sachakan terrorist attack, she had defected back to her birth side. Her betrayal made her the most hated person among the gangs, made worse by her dragging Akkarin, another magician, with her.

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Despite this betrayal, it was they that I might save tonight. I knew they were on the top floor, and I knew might be too late. But I didn't care for Sonea and Akkarin. I only wanted one man.

The lift clanged to a stop. The floor was dark. I pulled the grate open and stepped out cautiously. Light was coming from somewhere, accompanied by voices. I followed the sound. It came from the doorway of the room still being completed, a grand state room. I took in the scene before me numbly. The wide room's ceiling was still covered with drapes, and on one side the wall wasn't there; it opened out onto scaffolding. Two bodies lay spread-eagled on the floor. Sonea and Akkarin. I was too late. To my horror, Rothen kneeled on the floor beside Sonea, covered in her blood. His hands shook as he stroked her hair. "You monster," he whispered brokenly. The man I wanted to kill laughed back. I stared at him, hardly believing how he'd changed.

Once, Lorlen had been exemplary, the best student the Guild had had for years. He was also the best gang member the Guild had seen for years. He had risen to Head, leader of the gang, when he was only twenty three, and had taken almost all of one quarter of the city through careful planning and skilful use of men and arms. He was unstoppable. He had fallen repelling the Sachakans, but had returned like many others. Welcomed back with open arms, they didn't notice at first. The strange glint in his eye, his changed personality. It was only two months ago that strong suspicion had turned into cold certainty.

Lorlen was completely mad. Totally unhinged.

He'd shot a faithful member through the head for coughing in a meeting. Then he'd laughed. He couldn't care less who he killed, or why. People avoided him and he became reclusive, only emerging from his penthouse apartment to shoot first his landlord, then two debt collectors, and then a policeman. The police had raided his apartment, and found it empty. I didn't know why he was here, or what Sonea and Akkarin had to do with it, but he was here and now I could rectify the mistake of ever having let him back into the gang. He was also levelling his gun at Rothen. The older man didn't cower or flinch. He was saved by the empty click of the handgun. Lorlen tipped it, then tipped his head sideways with a jerk. "All out," he said in the awful singsong voice he'd used ever since he'd become reclusive. I had heard it once, when I had seen Lorlen shoot his landlord. "Oh dear, Marco," he'd sung creepily, "your blood is staining your precious carpet." He'd howled with manic, hysterical laughter, and I had bolted to the lift, heart in my mouth.

Lorlen reached behind to his back pocket. Black jeans clung to his legs above monochrome converse trainers. A slim fit blue t-shirt finished the façade of normality that hid the monster within. His deranged eyes and the awkward, strangely crooked smile on his face were the only indications of the madness. The hand came back with a second cartridge, and he grinned wider as he locked it in.

"You're a monster!" Rothen shouted. "What happened to you? He was your best friend, and you killed him!" Lorlen raised the gun, clicked off the safety. "Why?" Rothen breathed.

"Because it's so fun," Lorlen trilled, gleeful.

_Bang._

A circle of blood stained the blue fabric. Lorlen's eyes widened, and he looked down. Blood seeped fast from the bullet hole in the middle of his chest. "Oh," he said, and looked up into my eyes. He opened his mouth and let out a ringing hysterical laugh, ending in a choke as his lungs filled with blood. He fell to his knees, eyes still locked on mine. He put a fluttering hand to his wound, resting on the other. He collapsed onto his side, still raking my face with his gaze. Then, with a soft, wet cough, he gurgled, "Death…is…only…the beginning." And life left his eyes.

I collapsed. My last memory was Rothen's voice, shouting something.

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I woke up in a soft bed. Looking around, I recognised my room. The door opened and Tay wandered in. "You're awake," he whispered, coming to sit down on the bed.

"Tay," I croaked, holding out my arms. Tayend allowed me to fall on him, cradling me softly and stroking my hair.

"You're alright, Dannyl," he whispered in my ear. "You're alright."

0

Later, I went outside onto the balcony. It was a cold night, but somehow I didn't feel it. I listened to the sounds of the city, leaning against the railing. I looked up. No stars, of course. I fished in my jean pocket and dragged out my lighter. I lit a cigarette from the packet I'd brought out with me, and took a puff. The smoke curled away from me in the cold air. More joined it as I inhaled and exhaled slowly. It seemed like only a few minutes, but when my fag spluttered and died I knew I'd been there a while. I sighed, considered going in, but lit up another cigarette. The city glimmered below me, and the cold wind bit at my bare arms. I smiled. Tay would kill me for coming out in only a vest in this weather. He'd anxiously left me in bed an hour earlier to go to the dinner party we were supposed to be attending. After waking up groggy this morning, I'd gotten better, but Tay insisted that he would go alone.

A loud knock broke me out of my reverie. I went to the door. Rothen was outside, grim faced. "Rothen?" I was surprised. What on earth was he doing here?

"I came to give you this," Rothen said quietly. He handed me an envelope.

"What is it?" I asked.

"An invitation," he replied gruffly.

"To…?" I began, but then the answer to my question presented itself to me. "You've already arranged it?" I gasped.

"It was arranged in advance," Rothen said stiffly. "I think that is not uncommon, yes?"

"Why are you paying for her funeral, Rothen?" I asked coldly.

"I have no dubious connections, Dannyl." Rothen snapped. "I thought of her as a daughter, and I will pay for her last rites as if she were."

I sighed. "What about the other two?" I asked heavily.

"Akkarin's family is arranging his service," Rothen replied. "The body of…_His _body is being held at the morgue for a post-mortem examination. After they've finished I imagine his relatives will relish another chance to bury him."

I nodded. Rothen did also, stiffly, and turned and walked away. I closed the door and opened the envelope. On soft white paper was printed, 'For the funeral of Sonea Ranel, to be held in the Northside Cathedral, eleven o'clock, Tuesday the fourteenth.'

I went to put it on the table, but noticed writing on the back. I flipped it over. In a black calligraphy pen Rothen's sturdy handwriting said, "I suppose I should thank you. However, I don't believe it would be right."

I stared for a minute, then dropped the invitation on the table.

0

Later, when Tayend returned, he saw the piece of paper lying on the table. He read it, then took it out to where I was smoking on the balcony. "Will you go?" he asked quietly, dropping it in front of me. I nodded silently. "A suits and sunglasses affair?" Tay asked dryly, pinching a fag and lighting up. I snorted, and nodded again. "Cigarette kiss," Tay said around the fag in his mouth. I laughed and touched the end of my fag to his.

"Love you," I whispered, and removed the cigarette to give him a real kiss.

0

**A/N/: Yeah, it just wouldn't die at the end there. Hope you all enjoyed the random insanity of that AU. I found that Insane!Lorlen was quite fun, actually. And I always love killing characters. Call me a sadist.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	13. Misfortune

**A/N/: Zapped this one off real quick after finishing Insanity, but I love it. Hope you like! **

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Theme: Misfortune

Characters: Dannyl, Fergun

Setting: Pre-Trilogy

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Walking back at night was not a good idea. Not at all. I heave in my breaths, looking around, jumping. So damn paranoid. Focus, walk faster, quickly, must get inside, inside, safe in my room…

Footsteps. Twig cracks. Panicked breaths. Whispers. Sniggers. Walk faster, walk faster!

Someone's behind me. Have they caught me already? So easily?

"Oh, Dannyl. What a surprise to see you here!" Fergun. I hate him, I hate him. I realise I've stopped. He walks around me. Sneering face. I hate you, I hate you.

I don't speak.

More novices appear from the bushes. More sneers. Fergun smirks. "Well, now we're all here," he drawls, "how about we teach you something? Something to, ah, remind you of the weight of your _misfortune_."

I wince. I know what's coming next. They laugh, set upon me like animals. Leave me in the dark. I hate them, I hate them. I'll never say it. Why can't I say it?

They don't need to teach me. I _know _the weight, depth, value of my _misfortune_.

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**A/N/: I spend about five minutes on that one and love it a lot. Typical. **

**Thanks for reading.**


	14. Smile

**A/N/: Hiya! Another quick update, has the world gone mad? No, I'm just bored at school. **

**Thanks to snapeophil for the inspiration. Here's the idea you wanted!**

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Theme: Smile

Characters: Cery, Sonea

Setting: Pre-Trilogy

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Thinking back, it was her smile that he missed the most.

She would always look hard and fierce, trying to be one of the boys. She would growl and sneer like the rest of us, and we forgot she was any different. Swiping bol from the inn, hanging around in someone's squalor of a house, sitting in the street just…being. Those we brilliant days.

Then they had to go and remember she was a girl.

All of a sudden it was different. There was such a different atmosphere between all of us. The easy, carefree days were gone, and the gang seemed more into doing things that would really get us into trouble.

Then one day she didn't turn up.

I went round to her house, worrying that Jonna had actually carried out one of her various awful threats. Her aunt let me in reluctantly, and I raced upstairs. She was in her room.

She turned as I opened the door. "Cery?" she said, confused.

"Where were you, Sonea? I was worried."

Her face fell. "Cery…" she said slowly. "Cery…I don't want to be…I don't want to be in the gang any more."

I gaped at her.

"It's not that I don't like you any more," she continued. "It's just…it's different, now. Different from before. Not as fun." She smiled slightly. "But I still want to see you," she continued, quieter, "if that's ok…?"

I nodded dumbly. And she gave me that smile, that heart-stopping, world up-turning smile that spun me round and knocked the head off my shoulders and the air from my lungs.

It was that smile that I missed the most.


	15. Silence

**A/N/: Hello. A scary look at death here today. This is how I envisage the first moments of death; being somewhere lovely, but still feeling your loss. Eventually, you'll get happier, but it takes time, just like it takes time to adjust to a loved one's death in life. Hope you enjoy.**

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Theme: Silence

Characters: Akkarin, mentions others.

Setting: Post-Trilogy

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Waking up and not knowing where you are is pretty damn scary. Especially when your last memory is of death.

Akkarin sat up and looked about. He was in a field full of beautiful flowers. The whole field was covered by them, and he could only see the field, left and right, front and back, everywhere he looked.

But the strangeness of this was not what concerned him. It was the silence.

There was no sound. No birds, no insects, no breeze through the flowers. Nothing, not one hint of noise. Silence, silence, silence.

And into that silence, his own noise seemed to overflow. Sonea's voice, Sonea's laugh. Her sigh. Takan's voice and Lorlen's too.

Pictures followed sound. Sonea, Sonea, Sonea. Her smile, her sadness, anything and everything. Takan, Cery, Lorlen. Cery's sceptical looks, Takan's grateful eyes, Lorlen's last smile. _My friends, my love. Where am I?_

Nowhere. He was in nowhere. Just an endless field, alone with the silence and the memories.


	16. Questioning

**A/N/: Wow. I just want to say thank you to Brillz and Laura, for taking the time to give such brilliant reviews! It makes me feel very loved. Since I've been reading TAM, I thought it time to give Lorkin some fanfiction screen time. He's a small child here, not an adult, but I think he turned out really cute!**

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Theme: Questioning

Characters: Lorkin, Sonea

Setting: Post-Trilogy

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"Mummy, wass' this one?"

Sonea smiled and turned around. Lorkin was holding a weed tightly in his fist, and had raised it to within a centimetre of his nose. "That's a weed, sweetheart."

"Wass' a weed?" Lorkin asked.

"Bad plants. They grow where we don't want them to and steal food and water from the other plants."

Lorkin scowled and threw the plant away. He then ripped another one from the ground and threw it away too. "Bad plant." He said happily.

Sonea turned her face back to the sun and enjoyed the fresh breath of the wind. It was summer break, and the Guild was almost deserted. Even Rothen was absent, gone to visit Dorrien in his village. Both had invited her and Lorkin, but she knew they would relish the time on their own, so she had let Rothen go alone.

"Mummy, wass' this flower?"

Sonea glanced at her son. He was holding a flower in a very similar manner to how he had previously held the weed. "I don't know what it's called, but you shouldn't pick it."

He held out his other hand. "Mummy hand." She obliged him. He pushed the flower into her hand. "Mummy flower."

She smiled at him, and kissed his forehead. He beamed at her, and then ran away into the nearby trees. He shot out a minute later with something else in his hand. "Wass' this one?" he gasped breathlessly.

She looked it over. "It's a pine cone."

He looked at it, and then shot off again into the trees. A few minutes later he returned with an armful of pine cones. She eyed them dubiously. "What are those for Lorkin?"

"Hat." The little boy said.

She frowned. "'Hat?'"

"Making hat."

"You can't make a hat out of pine cones."

"Can. Uncle Ranel said he wanted pine cones, for his hat."

Sonea stared at him for a second, then laughed. "Silly boy," she snorted, "Uncle Ranel doesn't want pine cones for his _hat._ He probably wants them for a cat. Apparently, feeding pine cones to cats makes them better at catching mice."

Lorkin stared at her. He shook his head. "Mummy silly," he concluded.

Sonea laughed, and then pulled her son into a hug. As it turned out, Uncle Ranel was delighted at the pine cones brought back to him for his cat, which didn't eat a single one, and never caught one mouse.


	17. Blood

**A/N/: Ok, warning: SELF HARM, BLOOD, MATURE THEMES. This chapter is not for the faint hearted. Very depressed, suicidal thoughts are present. However, despite this I like it. I've been planning this one since nearly the beginning, so it was great to finally get to write it.**

**Also, news flash: I may soon be writing a long, multi-chapter fic for BMT. I've had the idea a while and I just thought up the perfect title, so if I plan it and decide to go ahead, you may soon be seeing an actual story! Yes, from me! Haha. Hope you enjoy the chapter. **

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Theme: Blood

Characters: Dannyl, previous Head of Healer's, OC's

Setting: Pre-Trilogy

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Curled up in a ball on the floor, my room looks so lonely. Just a few hard pieces of furniture, nothing personal, nothing to show _me._

Not like there'd be much to show, just a stupid coward who can't even stand up to idiots like…him.

Even piece of self worth I've ever felt, everything I've ever done that felt like I'd achieved something, anything that ever, _ever _made me happy, it's worthless! Worthless, because I'm so stupid and idiotic and cowardly and so _so _stupid…

So much frustration!

I hate life. I hate my life. Everything just blends into a torment. I can't focus on lessons like I used to, I'm going to fail the Mid-Term tests, everything is stupid, stupid, stupid…

I want to die. To die. Then they'd all be sorry, those people who laugh at me, snigger, point at me like I'm a freak. Oren was my friend, nothing more. He was my only true friend. I had made some connections, but now no one wanted to even try talking to me. I was a freak. An outsider.

My life is worthless. Worthless. Worse than worthless, pathetic. I hate everyone, I hate my life, I hate myself. I'm worthless and stupid and I deserve to die.

I will die. Then they'll be sorry.

I reach to the drawer, dig under my spare sets of robes, down to the present my father gave me. "You're a man now, son," he'd said, "and a man needs a knife!" I'll bet he didn't think I would use it to end my life.

It's in my hand. I can feel the cool handle. I draw it out.

I pull off the sheath. No turning back now. The blade glitters in the light. I take a firm grip on the handle and turn it towards myself.

Where to cut?

The wrist. I hold the knife, hand shaking. Before I can have second thoughts, I plunge it into my skin.

_Ow! _Pain. Vicious pain. But somehow, it feels like release. I'm going, going to a better place.

I make another incision. Pain, sweet pain. I take a look at my arm. Red stares back. _So much blood! _It paints my arm, my hand, the floor, a delicious, sweet, powerful red. Beautiful. I sweep the blade over my palm. Sweet pain, beautiful red. The floor has a pool, a dark pool. My arm is covered in a sleeve of crimson.

But it's not enough. I'm not dying. I feel giddy, but I'm not dying.

I want to make pictures, make pictures with my beautiful red paint. I need more paint. I slash my arm again, but there's not enough. Not enough.

I stab the blade deep into my stomach. I don't know why.

Blood, beautiful red, pours from the wound as I pull the knife out again. So much pretty blood. I dabble at it, but my vision is blurring. I can't see the beautiful picture I want to create. Blackness fills the edges of my vision. I feel myself fall onto my side. The world is spinning, and I'm suddenly afraid. I can feel the pain, white hot and screaming in my gut. I scream in response, so loud and shrill, but muffled to my dying ears.

I wanted to die. Now I get my wish.

I howl with the pain. Even my dulling senses and the crushing black cannot take away the pain that suicidal bliss made me ignore for so long. I wail and shout and shriek and scream, but no one must be able to hear me. No one's coming. The blackness is getting stronger, and the pain responds. It feels like my body is being torn apart from the point where I stabbed myself.

My senses have dulled to the point where nearly everything is either screaming pain or numb blackness. I feel terror choke my throat. I'm going to die.

On some level I register the door bursting open. Someone's beside me, many people's voices echo. All I can do is howl.

I can hear my name being called. I want to run to my name, but the blackness has tied leaden weights to my arms, my legs, my torso, keeping me from moving, pulling me towards it. I scream at the darkness, but my throat only produces a whimper.

A strange sensation is tingling in my gut. I can feel my flesh knitting back together, somehow, even though I only sense it as though through a thin veil. I've started to feel detached from my body, drifting. I know I'm being healed, but my spirit seems to have given up fighting.

I hear my name again, called by an old man's voice. I struggle to recognise it. I can't. I try to force my eyes open.

I find I can. An old man is leaning over me. The head of healer's. I stare. My vision is still blurred, but the pain from my stomach has gone. I feel light headed, my arm hurts, but that's being healed, too.

"He's conscious again," the old man says to someone out of view.

"Thank goodness," a female voice replies.

"We should take him to the Healer's Quarters," another voice suggests.

"Yes, we should. When you've finished healing him, Yoriko, we'll take him there. He will need a few days rest to recover. Marsia, will you run and inform the Administrator of what has happened? He will still be up at this hour, don't worry. Orgio, I don't think we need you anymore, so go back to the Healer's Quarters and get a room set up for him."

Murmurs of acquiescence were followed by retreating footsteps. A minute later, the tingling in my arm stopped. "I've finished," the healer named Yoriko said.

"Thank you, Yoriko," the head of healer's said. "Now, Lord Paren, if you would help Yoriko and I lift the patient to the Quarters?"

"Of course." I recognised the Novice Master's voice. As they lifted me, a bout of dizziness swept over me. I felt spiralling into darkness, and knew no more.


	18. Rainbow

**A/N/: Wow, I actually wrote something set in the books! Or mostly, anyway. Yes, this is my version of everyone's fantasy; Canavan didn't kill off her characters, and it's a happy ending! Follows the age old question 'Why didn't they just use the Arena power?' and of course Akkarin insists he must help his best friend, so Lorlen lives too (Yay!). Little song thing at the beginning is something I made up. Enjoy.**

**Notice: Is anyone on LiveJournal? If so, let's connect! PM me. I've also started a BMT community on there. Fanfic is welcome! Also, if people don't have accounts, I would still love your work to be there, so if you want to see it there, please give me permission to post your fics. PM me. **

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Theme: Rainbow

Characters: Sonea, Akkarin, Rothen, Dorrien, Cery, Lorlen

Setting: The High Lord

0

_If you could see a rainbow, _

_Would you reach out and touch it?_

_And if you could see a rainbow,_

_How much time would you give,_

_Before you let it go?_

The noise of the fight had stopped. The Guild grounds were silent.

Sonea pressed desperate hands to Akkarin's chest. His eyes flickered. The energy she had taken from the Arena could save him, but she didn't have much time. "Oh Akkarin, live, please, please…"

His eyes flickered and opened. "Son…e…a?" he whispered, brokenly.

She started to cry. "Yes, it's me."

He smiled. "We did it. I knew we would."

She burst into tears, truly happy for the first time in weeks. Others filtered back slowly, Rothen and Dorrien running down from the University roof, Sonea enveloping them both in a large hug. Cery appeared, was hugged by Sonea, shook Akkarin's hand, and disappeared just as quietly. Lorlen appeared, having fully recovered from being buried (with Akkarin's help) and Sonea decided to hug him too, just for good measure.

Later on, when the Guild grounds were almost full again with returning magicians, Sonea looked up into the sky and spotted a rainbow, shining through the haze of drizzle that had decided to pour at that moment. She laughed and pointed upwards. Upturned faces smiled at the sight. It seemed the world had not truly forsaken them, after all.


	19. Gray

**A/N/: Well hello there! I'm back from the great adventure to the States, and I wrote this and the next chapter on my travels. This one has quite an angsty feeling, and Sonea/Akkarin fans won't like it, and I doubt if Lorlen/Akkarin fans will love it, per say. Well, I don't know. It's a different interpretation of Sonea's pregnancy, hopefully interesting…Just try it I suppose!**

_0_

Theme: Gray

Characters: Lorlen and Akkarin

Setting: Post-Trilogy AU

_0_

"You certainly have changed it in here."

Akkarin's remark falls into stony silence. He doesn't need to skim the surface of his mind to hear the buzz of angry thoughts swarming around his friend's stiffly straight back. Make that his _former _friend's back. Lorlen has barely spoken to him since his re-instatement in the Guild; he was angry at him anyway, even before…this. Akkarin's heart aches at the thought of the mess he's gotten himself into. Because he loves this man in front of him, loves him dearly and with all being; and this man used to love him too. Used to love him and hold him and be there; used to be 'his'. His Lorlen wouldn't greet him with cold silence. His Lorlen would raise a slim brow at the kind of stupid comment Akkarin had just made and ask him dryly if he was always this eloquent. His Lorlen wasn't stiff and sharp; he was a warmth from many dark nights, a soft breath that tingled against Akkarin's skin.

But his Lorlen was gone, and it was his fault. Exiled and lonely, he had taken warmth from his companion, as a friend only. But Sonea had misunderstood him, and when she offered herself shyly he had been so damn lonely-

He never thought she would be pregnant. He wanted to leave it in the past, just a stupid, desperate act of idiocy that was best forgotten. He should have known that the past never stayed hidden. Now he had gotten an innocent girl into a lot of trouble, made enemies of good people, and mortally wounded the only person he truly cared for.

"Lorlen, I-" Akkarin falters. What is he supposed to say? "It was nothing," he concludes lamely. He swears Lorlen's shoulders stiffen even more.

"It would seem to be more than nothing," Lorlen says quietly. Akkarin draws closer, hesitates, wanting to reach out.

"I was being idiotic," he starts. "I couldn't think; I was lonely and she was-well, she was _there_, and I know it sounds awful, but God, I was dying without you, it was just something stupid that should have been forgotten, shouldn't have been mentioned, and I would do anything…truly anything if it meant not losing you, Lorlen…"

"Anything?" Lorlen asks bitterly. "How about turning back the clock? Can you do that?"

"Would that I could," Akkarin sighs. "But we all have to deal with our actions."

"Yes, we do," Lorlen snaps, turning to face him. "You would do anything?" he asks angrily, "then deal with _her_. Save her honour, save her the scandal. I don't care what you do, but fix this mess." He turns back to the window with an air of finality. Akkarin barely catches the next whisper. "Then," Lorlen breathes, "then maybe I'll think about it."

Akkarin's half smile is tinged with sadness. He looks around at the room as he reaches the door, takes in the room that has given him the tiniest sliver of hope. It's an art room, filled with light and the smell of oils. On a palette near him two splotches of paint are smeared into one another. _Black and white_, Akkarin muses, _mixed into gray. Symbolism? _He looks down at his own black robes, then glances at Lorlen's white ones, gleaming in the light from the window. He decides that even though he doesn't believe in omens, he'll count this as a sign of good luck.


	20. Fortitude

**A/N/: Ok, here's the next one. This changed whole lot from how it was originally written because the whole feelings and character thing didn't have enough depth. This chapter is based around me doing a gender-bend on one of the characters. That's who the secret is! See if you can guess before they're introduced. I also changed their name a little too. Hope no one is against gender-bending…Enjoy!**

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Theme: Fortitude

Characters: Akkarin, Lady Delvon, Lady Teran, and secret!

Setting: Pre-Trilogy AU

_0_

Akkarin had decided to stand up to her when she came this time. There would be no more pushing around or almost agreeing; this time he was saying no, flat out no.

His mother drifted in with her usual air of disdain. Her gaze swept the room imperiously before settling on him. "Good morning, mother," Akkarin said stiffly. She simply nodded in return. "Can I offer you a seat? A drink?"

Lady Delvon sat down with her usual grace, and said, "No drink, thank you," in her chiming voice. Akkarin took the seat opposite her and waited for it to begin. "Akkarin, dearest child," she gave him a flimsy, fake smile. "It has come to our attention that you have not replied positively to a single marriage proposal."

"No, I have not," Akkarin said darkly.

His mother's gaze was fierce. "Why is that?" she asked icily. "Many good matches have been proposed, and we think our family could profit greatly from some arrangements-"

"Mother, let me state this plainly," Akkarin snapped. He had lost patience with the charade quicker than he thought he would. "I have no intention of getting married."

Lady Delvon dropped the smile and replaced it with a steely glare. "You are our son," she snapped. "You _will _get married."

"Mother, when I became a member of the Guild I severed ties to my House. Do you not recall the rules of the Guild? And this incal," he lifted his sleeve, "means that I have taken the Guild as my House, truly. You cannot force me to marry anyone."

Akkarin's mother stood suddenly. "If that is the way you feel, then there is nothing more to say." She turned on her heel and marched out, ignoring Takan's offer of calling a carriage. The servant returned to the room a few moments later, surprising Akkarin. Usually Takan would have left him to brood.

"A guest, my lord," Takan said quietly, bowing and stepping aside to allow another through the doors.

Another woman of a similar age to Lady Delvon moved through into the room. "Good day, High Lord," she said with a smile.

Akkarin's face broke into a grin as he observed the woman who had felt more like a mother to him ever since he'd met her fifteen years ago. "You should call me Akkarin like always, Lady Teran," he smiled.

"Fame not gone to your head yet?" she asked wryly. "Good." She sat down. "I was here to visit my daughter, and it seems I picked the same day as your own mother."

Akkarin grimaced. "Here to lecture me again on the importance of getting married," he sighed.

Lady Teran smiled. "As it happens, I was gently hinting at the same idea in the conversation with my daughter today."

Akkarin stared at her. "You're arranging her marriage?" he asked.

Lady Teran shook her head. "No, merely suggesting that spring is a lovely time to get married, and if she wanted to take advantage of that she would have to start looking for a husband now."

Akkarin smiled. "I bet that idea didn't go down well."

Lady Teran gave him a playful grimace. "She seems determined to never find a suitable man."

At that moment, the doors opened again, and Takan bowed before stepping aside to let the very lady in question through. "Akkarin, I wanted to discuss the upcoming Guild meet," she said, shuffling the papers in her arms while paying no attention to the room before her. Akkarin smiled at the instant leap into conversation, all greetings and pleasantries discarded. He considered the woman in front of him. Even though the Guild maintained extremely low levels of prejudice against feminism, obtaining the position of Higher Magician as a woman was considered a great success. Obtaining the position of Administrator was unheard of. Seeing his best friend in blue robes made him smile. She had always been vocal about women's rights, and had become the spearhead of the movement to get women more accepted in higher positions. When the position of Administrator had needed to be filled, not just nearly every but _every _woman in the Guild had been persuaded to vote for her, and with many open-minded male magicians voting for her too, she'd won easily, much to some Guild members horror.

"Don't talk about business while your mother is visiting, Lorlyn dear," Lady Teran said with a smile.

Lorlyn blinked at her incredulously. "What are you doing here, Mother?" she asked.

"Visiting our dear friend." She patted the chair next to her and Lorlyn sat. Akkarin hid a smirk at her sudden obedience; the only person Lorlyn ever listened to was her mother. And occasionally him.

Lorlyn's mother sighed and smiled at them both. "I was just discussing our earlier conversation, Lorlyn."

Lorlyn's face darkened. "You know how I feel about that, Mother," she said, irritation colouring her voice.

"Yes, yes, I do." Lady Teran nodded glumly. "No man is good enough for you." Akkarin laughed and Lorlyn's scowl hardened, but Lady Teran continued before she could speak; "It's strange, but Akkarin's mother also visited him today, and they had a similar conversation."

"Really?" Lorlyn asked, turning to Akkarin. "Your mother wants you to get married?"

"She demanded that I find a wife, and left in a flounce when I told her I had no intention of getting married."

Lorlyn laughed and nodded. "Good. We must stand up to our parents!" she cried, smirking teasingly at her mother.

Lady Teran gave her a mock-glare. "Dearest child, that is no way to speak to your mother."

Lorlyn laughed. "You can't fool me, mother. You're soft as a lamb when it comes to enforcing discipline."

"It's your father you have to worry about," Lorlyn's mother warned, "He wants grandchildren you know!"

Akkarin laughed along with Lorlyn and her mother at the thought of her father being imposing or in any way threatening. Lorlyn's father was mild-mannered and gentle, and doted on his children. Lorlyn was the oldest and she had four younger sisters, all of whom had been allowed to choose their husbands, as had Lorlyn's one brother. He was two years younger than her, and like her still hadn't married. Her four sisters were all happily married, even though the youngest was only just twenty. It was for this reason that Lorlyn hated dinner parties with her family. Though her sister's husbands were lovely, she said the table chatter still reminded her of how sickeningly dependent women still were on men. When called to those social gatherings, she usually coerced Akkarin into coming with her, which led to much speculation on when _they _were going to marry, which Lorlyn fended off with barely controlled ferocity and Akkarin laughed off jokingly. Lorlyn's family were lovely, but overwhelming at times, much like Lorlyn herself.

"I have an idea," Lady Teran said, her eyes lighting with mischief. "Both of you have been pressured to marry," she smiled slyly, "so why not make it easy and simply marry each other?" Silence greeted her words until she herself burst out laughing. "Ah, the looks on your faces!" she cried.

Akkarin looked at Lorlyn to gauge her reaction. Usually only her brothers-in-law teased her about marrying him; her mother had never even joked about it before. Lorlyn caught his eye and instantly turned bright red, turning away and hiding behind a curtain of mahogany hair. "Moth-_er_," she groaned quietly.

Lady Teran laughed again. "I'm joking, I'm joking." She sighed and stood up. "It's been lovely visiting you, Akkarin dear, but the time has come for my departure. A household like mine doesn't run itself you know!" She laughed, and hugged him tightly. "Goodbye dear." She turned to the door. "Will you see me out to the carriage, Lorlyn?" she asked.

"Yes Mother." Lorlyn followed her out, pausing by the door to say, "And I'll be back, Akkarin, so read those notes while I'm gone."

Akkarin smiled. Leaving the notes untouched on the table, he followed them out and watched them walk away. Lady Teran was talking to her daughter animatedly, and it seemed Lorlyn was not happy with the subject matter. _Probably still hinting about marriage, _Akkarin thought. _She may not push, but she wants Lorlyn to be happy. _The bright sunlight caught the viridian blue of Lorlyn's robes as they stepped out from under the trees and made them shine. Akkarin wondered anew at her newly gained status. _How did the feisty, fiery, but ultimately unwise girl I made friends with in the University turn into a woman of such poise and knowledge and…fortitude? _he wondered. He supposed it must have happened gradually, and he never noticed. After all, the only sides of herself she showed to him before were either her fiery, strong willed campaigning side or the quieter, sweeter, more feminine side she only showed when they were alone. When they laughed over a glass of wine, she left behind her stand-offish, warrior woman exterior and became an engaging but perfect _woman._ Though everyone else saw a hard, tough alpha female, Akkarin knew that underneath she was still soft, graceful and womanly.

_Will she show that to someone else? _He thought suddenly. She had such fortitude; but if she fell in love, that might crumble away. The thought of some unknown man seeing the sweet, quiet girl only he knew, the thought of her smiling at him in her beautiful, gentle way and laughing with him like only they did made Akkarin feel suddenly and overwhelmingly possessive. That was 'his' Lorlyn. No one else was supposed to see that, no one else was supposed to be on the receiving end of her charm and love; she wasn't supposed to love anyone else-

_Wait, what? _She wasn't supposed to _love _anyone else? Akkarin shook his head. Where did that come from? Of course she could love someone else. He didn't love her; not in that way anyway. Any man could come and win her heart. Take her heart. Steal her heart-

Akkarin sucked in a deep breath at the aching 'mineminemine!' feeling that poured over him. He choked on the jealousy. _I don't love her! I shouldn't feel this way! _But his heart begged to differ. The thought of Lorlyn's heart belonging to someone else filled him with a burning envy that shallowed his breaths and made him light headed.

How could he have not noticed this feeling before? Was this strange jealousy really love?

_It isn't,_ he told himself. _I just don't want her falling in love with the wrong man, that's all. I don't actually _desire _her. _

_Only one way to find out, _another part of his mind sniped. Almost without meaning to, Akkarin looked up. Lorlyn and her mother were standing by the carriage as Lady Teran imparted some last minute wisdom. Akkarin looked and really _saw _her suddenly, properly, all soft curves and gorgeous smile and bouncing hair, and a wave of something completely different washed over him. _Longing. Desire. Want. _All different names for the same traitorous feeling. How could he not have noticed that she was so _beautiful_? Soft, pale skin glowed in the mid-morning sun, her deep brown eyes framed by perfect waves of mahogany hair that flowed down to her waist. The blue robes she wore covered all but her face, neck and hands, but clung slightly to the body as if to allude to what was underneath.

Akkarin felt his breath catch in his throat as she turned back to him. Her mother was gone, and now she was coming back. _To talk to him. _

He seemed to split. One half wanted to run; what if she saw that he wanted her? How on earth could he deal with that? And one half wanted her near; to see her closely, to glory in her presence. Before he could decide she was in front of him, staring at him oddly. He focused on her eyes to keep from staring anywhere else, but found they were suddenly entrancing. Her questions seemed to come from very far away. He stumbled, stuttered, completely caught off balance by this new feeling. "Mmmm," was all he could manage. She looked at him oddly again and moved past him, inside. Her scent lingered faintly, sweet as summer and heady as its wine. Akkarin stood for a minute, breathing, and wondered vaguely what Lorlyn would say if he asked her to marry him.


	21. Vacation

**A/N/: Aw man, I missed you guys! Well, now the madness of NaNoWriMo is over, I can get back to writing. Well, it'll be hard to post for a while since I don't have internet, but I'm still gonna be writing. Even though I didn't finish my NaNo, which I'm sad about. Anyway, expect to see an update for Disturbia soon, I've got it all planned and ready...And Amazing Mr. Kip, if you're reading this, PM me. We've got to talk about my new lease of free time...and what it means for writing...you know what I'm talking about...**

**Ok, so this chapter is AU. Very AU. Everyone speaks like...us. Sort of. I think they're quite out of character, but I don't really hang out with people in their late twenties/early thirties, so I don't know...Anyway, v. AU setting. And though I said I didn't like them any more, pairing is Sonea/Akkarin. Because I lie.**

**(Oh, and because I didn't make it clear, the first line is Lorlen speaking. I just don't want to change the actual fic...so there you go).**

_0_

Theme: Vacation

Characters: Sonea, Akkarin, Lorlen, Osen, Dannyl, Tayend.

Setting: AU

_0_

"So, the van's packed. You wanna go already?"

Sonea sighed as she stood, hands on hips, in front of the beaten about old blue campervan which was parked in front of the steps of the Magician's Quarters. The old blue van was priceless; their home away from home, their refuge on cold nights, their place to dream and relax and chat and laugh...Yet she felt disloyal, somehow, taking it on holiday with them when he wasn't coming too.

"Are you sure you have to stay here?" she said quietly.

Akkarin hugged her tightly from behind. "Suddenly I find myself with as much work to do as Osen," he replied dryly.

"But he's still coming."

"I know." Akkarin sighed heavily. "And if it weren't for this one thing, I would come. But it's taken months to get these ambassadors to come here, and providing them with a good first week is essential."

Sonea frowned and crossed her arms in front of her chest. She'd heard all this before. The ambassadors from Sachaka were coming in two days time. However, since it was a holiday break, the court would not be open to receive them for a whole week after they arrived, meaning they would have to be entertained. Somehow, Akkarin had been landed with the job, while Lorlen and Osen got to swan off...wherever they were insisting on taking her.

"Go on," Akkarin squeezed her again, then pushed her forward gently. "If you don't go soon, Lorlen will come out here and physically drag you."

Sonea smiled slightly, then reached up and kissed him. He smiled at her, then kissed her forehead. "Bye bye, Sonea," he said quietly.

"Bye," Sonea whispered, then she turned and headed towards the van.

She had to use all of her strength to drag the heavy sliding door open, and she glared at Osen as he sniggered at her from the seat opposite the door. "You should have opened it," she snapped as she climbed in.

"And missed you hauling it open?" he retorted.

Sonea scowled and slumped on the back seat. The whole back of the van was set up to be a like a little house. It had a boot, in front of which was the bench seat she was sitting on. Beside it was a cabinet unit which held a sink, fridge and water tank for the sink. In front of the seat was a small table attached to the wall, which Osen had put his feet up on. His chair was just behind the driver's, and opposite him was a cooker which folded away to look like another unit. The van dipped slightly, as it always did, when someone jumped into the front. Sonea looked up and met Dannyl's eyes. He smiled at her, and she felt herself grin back automatically. "Hey, Sonea. Looking forward to our holiday?"

"Well, I might be, if I knew where we were going!" she said, raising her eyebrows.

Dannyl looked surprised. "You don't know where we're going?" She shook her head. "Oh, well, you'll love it, we're going-"

"Ah ah! No telling! It's a surprise!" Sonea's face fell back into a scowl as she looked towards the door. Lorlen grinned back at her very happily, then thumped down next to her. "You'll know when we get there!" he chirped brightly at her. She just muttered and glared out of the window.

"Yeah! We're ready to go!" Tayend yelled joyfully as he leaped into the passenger seat. Dannyl grimaced as the van rocked rather violently.

"Honestly, Tay, do you have to..._bound like a leaping gazelle_ into the van?"

"Getting into your poetic spirit already, Dannyl?" Tayend grinned, then winked at Sonea.

"Honestly. You're all so...so..." Sonea shrugged, and sighed acceptingly as they all laughed at her. _A whole week with four guys. Oh dear._

"Let's go, let's go!" Tayend cried, jumping up and down in his seat. Dannyl whacked his arm affectionately, then started the engine. The old van clanked into life and Dannyl pushed the gearstick jerkily into position. The whole van jerked, then started forwards, gathering speed slowly. Sonea sighed and crossed her arms, looking out of the window. The Guild gates sped past, then the opulent homes of the Inner Circle. _I wonder where we're going? _she thought.

_0_

Sonea laughed loudly. She had decided after a while that being with four guys was not so bad, and she had decided not to miss Akkarin, well, too much. "You're an idiot," she told Osen, who was laughing at her.

"I know, I know," he said, waving a dismissive hand.

Sonea peered out of the window at the long queue they were stuck in. "Where _are _we going?"

Lorlen tapped the side of his nose. "That's for us to know, and you to wonder." Sonea grunted and used the log book they'd been looking through to beat him on the head. "Ow, ow!" Lorlen cried, throwing his arms over his head. The others laughed.

"We're moving," Dannyl said, throwing the gearstick into place with a grunt of effort. The van moved forward with a low rumble, and Sonea bounced over the seat to the window, dropping the log book. The road moved by, and the van rocked as Tayend bounced up and down again. "Tayend," Dannyl growled, and the blonde Elyne grinned at him, leaning over to peck him on the cheek. Dannyl sighed, resigned, and concentrated on the road.

Suddenly, the sight of houses and streets gave way to fields. Or more acturatly, what had once been a field but was now a mesh of tents and cars with a long trail of traffic winding back down from the entrance. Sonea gaped. "I don't believe it!" she cried. "You ditched your _duties _so you could come hang out at a festival?"

Lorlen shrugged. "Meh. No court, they don't need me."

Sonea picked up the log book and waved it threateningly at him. "I've still half a mind to use this, you know."

"Oh, spare me!" Lorlen cowered away from her with a melodramatic expression of mock fear on his face. Sonea threw the book away and went back to staring out of the window.

A few minutes later and they were pulling into the camping field. "Where should I head for?" Dannyl asked.

"Halfway between the end of the field and the entrance to the festival village," Osen said. "Then we're not too far away, but not too close."

They found a space to park and piled out, Tayend dragging a long and badly patched old mat from the back of the van to spread on the ground. Then Dannyl, Tayend, Sonea and Osen got to work setting up their tents. The camper van had one small double fold out bed which Lorlen had already reserved, so he went down to the box office to exchange their tickets for wristbands and buy them some program guides. After battling with her tent for about twenty minutes, Sonea got herself a nice cool drink of orange squash and watched as Dannyl and Osen put it up for her. They grumbled vigorously about the strange design, and her only excuse was, "It's Rothen's tent, so it's ancient. How am I supposed to know what to do with it?"

When Lorlen reappeared, they had managed to construct both Sonea's strange old canvas tent and the other two new ones, and were sitting down enjoying a cool glass of one thing or another. Lorlen plopped down beside Osen and stretched both his arms and legs. "You'd never believe how many people are down there," he sighed, passing out wristbands and guides. Sonea poured over hers intently, then listened to the others trading recommendations.

"I heard about these people on the web."

"Oh, I know her, she's good..."

"We have to go and see this..."

Sonea smiled and stretched back on the mat. Well, perhaps this wasn't such a bad vacation after all.


	22. Mother Nature

**A/N/: Another update, because it's late and that's when I get inspired. Well, I started out thinking this was going to be a fic about Mother Nature watching the magicians and Imardin and thinking about how she loves her creation. But then I thought, does she actually? And so Mother Nature became evil. And I suddenly knew as I began to type a crappy first line of a fic, that this had to be a poem. So this is a Black Magician Trilogy POEM about EVIL Mother Nature. **

**And forgive me for the maybe-not-so-subtle parallels to our own environmental situation. What can I say? They're only a couple of steps behind...**

_0_

Theme: Mother Nature

Characters: No one from the series.

Setting: None, really.

_0_

Wrapping soft breezes,

Around the towers,

My trees bend slowly,

Their ears twitch,

Listening.

Do trees have ears?

Why not?

All can be so,

If so I make it.

Grass is creeping,

From under the stone,

Forever seeking,

To fulfil my perfect wish,

Bring it back to me,

Bring it back to me,

My earth, my simple loving child,

Stolen away by the cold stone fashions of men,

My poor stone children,

Forced by an energy wielded by hands not my own,

Into shapes they should not possess.

I gave the greatest of my children,

To some of them, I gave the greatest gift,

A power to wield my kind of forces,

But they should not have touched my stone children.

They should not have overstepped their boundaries.

The throwing out of one's power into a rain of energy; I meant for this.

The movement of objects, subjected to one's will; I meant for this.

The healing of other children; I meant for this.

The taking of other's power; I tolerate this.

But this unnatural shaping of stone, this subjugation of one group of my children by another, this I cannot, will not allow.

They do not know it yet.

But as I shape my wind around their buildings, push my plants through their floors, send my animal children to take back what is theirs, I wait for them.

For one day, I will win.

For one day, they will fall, and their world will fail, for they will realise that I am eternal, everlasting, and someone who can wait forever will never be defeated, not even by man, who think themselves highest of all.

I am patient.

I will wait.


	23. Cat

**A/N/: And...another update. Just a quick, light-hearted idea that popped into my head at the mention of cats.**

_0_

Theme: Cat

Characters: Akkarin, Lorlen, Osen

Setting: Pre-Trilogy

_0_

"Lorlen, I have something for you."

Lorlen smiled wryly and looked up at his best friend. "I thought you didn't believe in birthday presents?"

Akkarin shrugged. "I changed my mind." He leant down and fiddled with something on the ground.

"What are you doing down there?" Lorlen asked, trying to peer over his desk.

"Look," Akkarin said happily, holding something up. Lorlen stared at it. It stared back. In Akkarin's hands was a tiny bundle of fur with large, round green eyes. Akkarin lowered it to the table and the bundle unwound to reveal the shape of a tiny kitten. "A cat."

Lorlen stared at it, then repeated, "A cat."

The cat stared at him for a while, then prowled along the desk to his hand, which it sniffed before rubbing it's face against him.

"He's cute, right?" Akkarin asked.

"Yes, but...what exactly led you to believe I'd want a cat for my birthday?"

Akkarin shrugged. "He looks like you."

Both Lorlen and the cat stared at each other. "No, he doesn't, he's a cat." Lorlen said.

"He does, if you look at him. You've both got the same colour eyes, that sea green. And his face looks like yours?"

Lorlen frowned at him. "I look like a cat?" he asked in a dangerous voice.

Akkarin grinned and said, "Yes, you do," then laughed as both cat and Lorlen gave him the exact same disgruntled look. "You really do."

Lorlen sighed. "Go away, Akkarin."

Akkarin, still laughing, retreated from the room, satisfied that he had given a good present, despite Lorlen's unwillingness to accept it. Lorlen stared at the cat, which gave him a 'What are you looking at?' kind of glare and busied itself washing. Lorlen sighed again and reshuffled his papers, beginning work. The cat curled up and went to sleep, seeming instantly at room in the office. It only woke up again a few hours later when Osen poked it, which earned him a long scratch on the back of his hand and an amused snigger from Lorlen.

"Really is like you," Osen muttered back. "Doesn't like being disturbed."


	24. No Time

**A/N/: I thought that I wouldn't do a sequel to 'Gray', but then I saw this prompt and this idea came into my head, so I wrote it down and I quite like it. Again, like Gray, this is angsty. And it has an ambiguous ending. Enjoy.**

_0_

Theme: No Time

Characters: Akkarin, Lorlen, Takan, Baby Lorkin.

Setting: Post-Trilogy AU

_0_

A year later, and Akkarin was sitting in that same window. Looking out over the Guild grounds, he wondered vaguely how so much could have changed between then and now. How so much could have been lost.

He had tried everything to save Sonea's dignity, but it turned out the only honourable thing to do was marry her himself. He'd done this, with forced good grace, and had managed to come to a civil relationship with Rothen. Not so his son, who still glared at him whenever they passed each other. Though that glare was filled with new accusation now. _It's your fault. Your fault. You caused it._

Sonea had given birth in June; the height of summer, the best time to have a baby, they said. Until she got ill, and the Healer's face's grew grim. They had sat by her bedside and watched as she wasted away, for there was no cure for childbed fever. She had died two months later, and by law her son was now Akkarin's to look after. He had accepted him despite protest from Sonea's relations; they were poor and already had two children to look after. After a particularly vicious argument with her aunt, Akkarin had said, "It's my fault he's here; I'd better look after him. Everyone should pay penance." He had meant to shock her, and it had produced the desired effect. She had howled and screamed and thrown him from her house, and he hadn't heard from them since.

His own family had been quick to point out their disapproval, but he had also been quick to shoot their protests down with a rain of flaming arrows (metaphorically, of course, though his darkly humorous side quite liked the idea of shooting a bushel of fire slicked arrows at his mother). He had taken the boy in, and had then proceeded to mope and languish by the window, lamenting the mess he was in and making no effort to look after the child. Takan had bravely stepped in and had constant heavy bags from the nightly exertions he was undertaking. Akkarin felt guilty when he met him going from one task to the next, and had secretly hired another servant to do his own chores. Takan was so tired, he probably didn't even notice.

Akkarin sighed as he took in the view before him. He hadn't _meant _to leave it all to Takan. He had just fallen into a state of abject melancholy, for which he could find no cure. Lorlen had come and snapped at him for about half an hour for his 'stupid attitude' and 'irresponsibility', but all Akkarin could think about was the sorrow and longing he felt upon viewing his former lover and friend, and Lorlen had gone away after telling him, "That child _needs _you, Akkarin, and I'm giving you two more weeks to come to your senses, or he's going somewhere else."

Akkarin suddenly sat up. Was that really what Lorlen had said? He hadn't really thought about it, but now he did, his mind recalled all of what Lorlen had been saying that day. Well, most of it. He'd been snapping and snarling about their own relationship for a while, though it was subtly hidden...then he'd lamented for Sonea's fate and blamed Akkarin (as always and quite rightly) for his major part in her demise...then he'd gone on to say something else...

"He's only got you really, Akkarin," Lorlen had said. "You're supposed to be looking after him. I know you had no time to put things truly right with Sonea; but here you've been given a chance to in her son. Your son. You should rectify your mistake," he took a deep breath, "like I told you before."

Akkarin looked around the room. He'd snuck in here to remember that day, and now it seemed closer than ever. Lorlen telling him to make amends, and then his last words; 'Maybe I'll think about it.' Akkarin longed for that, longed for him to even consider forgiveness. He would have begged for years, but Lorlen had given him something else. _You decided when you married her that you were going to do things honourably. You told yourself you were going to do it right, no matter the cost. Doing things right means looking after him, because he relies on you. You should be there for him, the exact opposite to... _Akkarin gasped. He knew who he reminded himself of; his own father. The man who had been content to let Akkarin be ferried around and looked after and entertained by a host of servants while he vied for political power and ignored the small child who really, deep down inside, only wished for his father's love, or his approval, or even his attention.

Akkarin jumped up and hared off to his own rooms. There he found Takan, sound asleep in a chair, while Lorkin slept in his cot. Akkarin looked down on the tiny child, and felt something deep stir. He loved Lorkin; he realised that now. He hadn't had time to make things up to his mother, but he could still do everything for his son.

He heard the door open and turned round. Lorlen was staring at him. Without any pretense, Akkarin walked over and hugged him tightly. "You were right," he whispered into Lorlen's ear. "I was being both stupid and irresponsible. I've changed that, now." He pulled away to a few paces distance and looked at his old friend. "What did you come for?" Akkarin asked quietly. "Can I help you with something?"

Lorlen found a voice. "I came...to tell you that you needed to take on the attitude you seem to have now acquired before this next Freeday...but I can see it's irrelevant now."

Akkarin nodded. "Yes. I'll look after him, now."

Lorlen smiled sadly, then the look on his face turned to a sorrow so strong that it took all Akkarin had to stay where he was. "Ah, but what else can change?" Lorlen said, looking away at the bright white light pouring in through the window.

Akkarin gazed forlornly at him. "Anything can change, so long as you have the will to change it, Lorlen." He looked straight into the sorrowful eyes his friend turned on him, and gazed into them as he said, "Whatever you wish to change, you can. It is your decision, after all."

Lorlen's face creased with pain, and he looked away. "Don't-don't talk about-about-_that_," he stuttered.

"When are you going to talk about it, Lorlen?" Akkarin said. He crossed the sparse few steps that separated them and held onto Lorlen's wrist. "I still love you," he said in an intense whisper. "I would still love you, if only you'd let me."

Lorlen's shoulders sagged, and he leant against Akkarin weakly. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do," he whispered desperately.

"You can do whatever you want to," Akkarin whispered back.

They stood there for what seemed time eternal, and the debate that raged on inside the confused mind of one would rage forever, for at the point of decision the only course that will tame the inferno of confusion is action, to one course or another, because the only true knowledge in this world is hindsight, cold and bitter as it may be.

_0_

**A/N/: Yes, no solid conclusion. That is the way that storyline is being left (currently). There are no plans for confirmation of an outcome. Just to clear that up.**

**A few notes: The last few lines were based on a cool quote my dad has on the fridge; 'Good judgement comes from experience, and most of that experience comes from bad judgement'. And I randomly had one line of a song in my mind for this piece, and it just goes; 'Come into my aching heart.' I have no idea where that song is from or what it is...Yeah. Also had the first ending song from Bleach on repeat, and the lines that inspire me: 'Nobody knows who I really am, I've never felt this empty before, who's gonna comfort me, and carry me home?' Just a random view into my mind...**

**This brings me on to a question I'd like to ask. When I finish Disturbia and 100 Themes, would any of you guys be interested in seeing the plans? I talked to Laura about it earlier and we thought it could be like a 'learn from another writer' kind of thing. Tell me what you think.**

**Thanks for reading. Ciao. **


	25. Trouble Lurking

Almost two years had passed, but Akkarin still hadn't convinced himself that he wasn't in love with his best friend. Every time he saw her, he couldn't help but stare and think about her in a way best left undescribed. Lorlyn didn't seem to notice at all, which only served to increase his distress tenfold. She still acted exactly the same around him, if that she seemed to have her head in the clouds a little lately. Always thinking about something else, her assistant Osen had told her.

Today she was coming over for dinner, just as she always did. Though it was quiet torture for him, Lorlyn would begin to suspect something if he broke their casual routine, so he had endured the exercise in willpower once every week.

Takan knocked and opened the door. "Administrator Lorlyn is here, master."

"Show her in, please Takan," Akkarin said quietly.

Lorlyn appeared in the doorway a second later, the long hair that she usually left flowing over her shoulders now tied in a loose bun at the back of her head. "Good evening," she smiled as she sat down.

"A good day today?" Akkarin asked, careful to keep his voice simply friendly and interested.

"Nothing disastrous happened!" she laughed, shaking her head, making the strands of loose hair around her face sway with the movement. _Trying not to stare gets harder every time, _Akkarin thought, taking a sip of his dark wine.

Takan and his assistant entered, carrying trays of delicious smelling food. Lorlyn smiled as they set them down. "It looks like you've outdone yourself again, Takan," she said happily.

Takan nodded modestly. "Thank you, my lady," he said as he lifted the lids of the first dishes.

They tucked in happily to the delicious dinner, and Lorlyn managed to spend the whole meal chatting and blabbing on about random topics. Akkarin half-listened and nodded along, saying yes or no here and there. He wasn't really thinking about what she was saying; he was fretting about how to curb his ill-advised attraction. _Just tell her, _one half of his mind said. _You've been putting it off for how long? Two years? That's pathetic._

_Don't tell her. Get over it and find another woman, _the other half argued back. Akkarin had stopped worrying about arguing with himself a long time ago. He'd never been able to rein it in, so he had accepted it and now listened unhappily to the raging quarrel going on within the recesses of his mind.

"Akkarin, do you have those notes I sent you to look over?" Lorlyn asked as their empty plates were cleared away.

"Yes, I do." Akkarin got up, grateful for the distraction, and walked slowly down the dark corridor to his rooms. After a long search through the piles of unorganised clutter on his desk, he found the latest pile of notes that Lorlyn had sent him. _Must get Takan to clean up that mess, _he thought as he re-entered the hall. _Then again, maybe it's better if I take care of that._

Engrossed in his thoughts, he didn't notice the sound of soft voices until he was right outside the dining room door. It was slightly ajar, and he put his eye to the gap.

Inside, Lorlyn had risen from her seat and was standing opposite Takan, who had paused in his clearing. Akkarin frowned. Something about the scene wasn't quite right. For one thing, Takan looked far more relaxed than he really should be, despite his closeness to Akkarin. He looked like he was debating some complex problem, while Lorlyn was staring at him with something that Akkarin could only haltingly describe as quiet desperation. At length, Takan sighed, and to Akkarin's considerable shock, raised a hand and brushed his fingers over Lorlyn's cheek before letting it rest there. "There's nothing I can do," he whispered forlornly. "I'm a servant, and you're a magician."

Lorlyn sighed, her eyes glimmering in the soft light. "You're right…" she murmured, leaning her face into the curve of Takan's hand.

His brow creased. "Ah, but how I wish I wasn't." Reaching out, he pulled her close and held her while she rested her head on his chest. He murmured something in an undertone, so quiet it was unintelligible.

Akkarin could feel his chest constricting. At first he had thought it couldn't be…but what _else _could it be? Lorlyn was in love with his _servant, _an emotion said man seemed to return. Backing away from the door, Akkarin tried to control his breathing. His head spun, he felt sick, and his own feet were trying to trip each other over. _How could this happen? How could this happen?_

After a lot of steady breathing, he felt confident his voice wouldn't fail him. He glanced around, then remembered his desk. "Takan!" he called, backing away to the door of his room.

The door to the dining room opened and Takan stuck his head out. "Yes, master?"

"When you've done clearing those plates, could you come and organise this lot for me?" Akkarin asked, waving vaguely into his room. "There's so much paper on my desk. Don't bother to read it, just organise it into tidy piles or something."

Takan nodded. "Yes, master. Right away."

He ducked back into the dining room, and Akkarin paused to regain his composure before following him. Lorlyn was sitting again, and if he didn't know better he would have betted she'd never moved. "Did you get those papers?" Her voice was perfectly clear and bright, and no sign of her earlier sorrow appeared in her beautiful eyes.

Akkarin nodded and sat again, spreading the mess of documents before him. Lorlyn picked a few up and sighed. "These are hopelessly out of order, Akkarin."

"I'm sorry," Akkarin murmured, unable to keep a shade of aggrieved distress from colouring his voice.

Lorlyn laughed. "No need to sound so desolate. We'll have them sorted out soon enough. Though you shouldn't get Takan to organise your desk; you shouldn't let it get messy in the first place."

Akkarin hid a wince at the mention of his servant's name, and replied, "So you keep telling me."

Lorlyn looked at him, a faint hint of suspicion in her eyes. He forced a smile and picked up a few papers before letting him drop from his hands again. "I'm stuck, Lorlyn," he said lightly. "I can't be coordinated like you."

She grinned. "I suppose I can help. But only this once."

As she buried her nose in paper, Akkarin took the chance to gaze at her. _How could I not have noticed? _he mourned. _It must have been going on for a while. I should have spotted it earlier…_

_I should have spoken of my own infatuation earlier, then maybe she wouldn't have had time to fall in love with him._

Akkarin sat, swinging between guilt and unjust anger. Guilt because he knew he shouldn't want to sabotage her happiness for the sake of his own; and anger, unjust as it was, because he had failed to talk to her in time, and had failed to catch her before she fell in love with someone else. _What will I do now? _

Later, as she stood up to leave, Akkarin caught her arm. "Are you alright, Lorlyn?" he asked quietly, not quite sure even as he spoke what he was trying to achieve by asking, but knowing he wanted to confirm _something._

Lorlyn looked at him, hesitating. "Yes, Akkarin," she said, a hint of disquiet breaking through her calm veneer. "I'm fine."

He nodded and let her go, but his suspicions were confirmed. She _was _unhappy. But despite wanting to sort everything out for her, he found his own feelings confusing his judgement. He sighed as she disappeared. If he was going to be of any use to Lorlyn, he would have to sort out his own issues first.


	26. Tears

He had been worrying about the problem for a whole week now, and had decided it could go on no longer.

Lorlyn smiled brightly as she came in through the front door. "Hello Akkarin. This is quite an odd time for a visit. Anything amiss?"

"A few things," Akkarin said, trying to curb the dark tone of his voice.

However, sensitive as she was, Lorlyn picked up on it and frowned slightly. "What's the matter?"

Akkarin sighed. He'd decided to talk to her about what he had witnessed after dinner a week ago, but actually _doing _the deed was proving harder than he thought. "Sit down, and we'll talk about it." Lorlyn obediently lowered herself into a chair, still frowning at him worriedly. He debated being cryptical or clever with his words, but instead decided to come straight out with it; "I know, Lorlyn."

Lorlyn's frown deepened. "You know about what?" she asked, an edge of worry in her voice.

Akkarin sighed. "About you and Takan," he said heavily.

Lorlyn's indrawn breath was loudly audible. "Oh," she gasped, amazingly at a loss for words. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, unable to form a coherent sentence. Akkarin stared at her, his face betraying no sympathy though his conscience told him he should show compassion for his best friend. Lorlyn's breaths became broken, and to Akkarin's horror she suddenly hid her face in her hands and began to cry.

_Oh damn, _Akkarin thought, staring at her. Not _the reaction I expected. _"Lorlyn, I…"

"I'm sorry, Akkarin," she sobbed. "I didn't intend to…I mean, I never wanted to be…"

Akkarin sighed heavily and reached out to her. She sat on his lap unhappily and cried into his shoulder. Stroking her hair, he contemplated the current situation. _Closer than I've ever been, but yet further away than ever before. _

"Lorlyn," he said quietly after a few minutes had passed. She looked up at him, her eyes still shining. "How did it happen?" he asked in a hushed voice.

Lorlyn swallowed, then began to relate the tale.

**-Flashback-**

Lorlyn walked along the path with an unusual spring in her step. She had been successful in defeating her opposition again this morning in a debate on the subject of the slum girl. Lorlyn was very much for letting her join them; however, some members of the Guild had expressed concern about her disreputable background. Lorlyn had convinced the Higher Magicians that someone with her talent should not be wasted, and that her disreputable background was the perfect reason to let her into the Guild; the slum dwellers might then begin to forgive the terrible events of the Purge. Her high spirits were shared by the group of women who, like her, were faithfully committed to promoting women's independence and winning equal rights. She smiled at the thought of them.

Kalia was young and idealistic, but fiercely passionate and loyal. Her best friend Ameria was the youngest in the group, and though quiet and shy, she had a sharp intellect that provided many strong points in arguments. Rolanda was the oldest of the group, and her white hair and wrinkled face hid an intense will and headstrong determination. Two middle aged women, Sanea and Porticia, were the less fierce, more approachable members. While Rolanda was the strong leading figure, these two were the mothers of the unit, always there with help and advice should anyone need it. The last members of the company were Matini, who had just celebrated her sixtieth birthday, and her daughter Emiliana, who was about Lorlyn's age. Both mother and daughter were, like the other women, passionately committed to their cause, though Emiliana tended to work through more vocal methods while her mother preferred subtlety.

They were Lorlyn's closest friends. Well, aside from Akkarin, obviously. It was the High Lord's residence she was heading towards now. Akkarin had wanted to know about any and all progress to do with Sonea, and Lorlyn had only a small number of other matters she could be dealing with.

As always the door swung open at her touch. Inside, she used the wide mirror hanging by the door to readjust the section of hair she had pulled back this morning. It had fallen out of place on her way over due to the loose hair tie she had put in it, and she was still attending to it when Akkarin swept in. "Good morning, Lorlyn," he said, sounding distracted.

"It's the afternoon, actually," she mumbled around the hair tie, which she had clamped between her teeth.

She observed Akkarin staring at her in the mirror. "What are you doing?"

"Retying my hair," she said shortly, faintly annoyed with the mahogany locks. Why on earth would they not cooperate?

Akkarin laughed at her. "And here I thought you weren't a girl."

Lorlyn turned and gave him a glare. "I never said I wasn't a _girl, _only that I didn't wish to be treated as an inferior."

Akkarin shrugged. "Whatever you say. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"We had a discussion about Sonea today." Lorlyn finished retying and moved to a chair. Akkarin sat down opposite, his eyes alight with interest. "We received some complaints about the proposal to offer her a place in the Guild. Nonetheless, I managed to convince the Higher Magicians that she should be accepted, and Rothen will tell her she is welcome here."

Akkarin nodded, smiling. "That's good. We could use someone with her potential. Have you spoken to Rothen about her aptitude and personality?"

"Yes. He seems fond of her. Apparently she is a fast learner, and has a good memory. She is obviously upset about being taken from her home, but she is not a child; Rothen hasn't dealt with any tears, at least."

"Hmmm." Akkarin looked away, considering. "Doesn't sound like there's anything to worry about." He looked back at her and smiled. "Thank you for coming to talk to me, Lorlyn."

"It's no trouble."

Akkarin sighed. "Forgive me, but I must go now. I have quite an urgent appointment."

Lorlyn waved a hand to the door. "Be on your way, then. Don't bother waiting for me; I can show myself out."

Akkarin grinned and jumped up. "Thank you, Lorlyn." He rushed away, making Lorlyn feel slightly guilty for detaining him for so long.

"Let me see to the door, lady."

Lorlyn froze at the voice. Oh, why did she have to feel like this? She smiled at Takan as he went to get the door for her, but it was forced and fake. All she felt like doing when she saw him was crying. _How on earth could I have been idiotic enough to fall in love with a _servant_? _she thought desperately. _Even worse, _Akkarin's _servant._

As she got up, the loose tie fell out of her hair. She sighed and went to pick it up, but found a hand reaching for it even as she did. She looked up into Takan's eyes, his face closer than she expected. A hot blush exploded onto her face, and she stammered unbearably, casting all over frantically for something to say. "Here, lady," Takan said quietly, pressing the small piece of soft rope into her hand. Her fingers burned at the touch, and she couldn't even speak to thank him. Instead, she managed a nod. She straightened and turned, wanting to hide behind the curtain of poker straight tresses as she fiddled with them yet again. However, she felt soft fingers pull tenderly through her hair. "Let me, my lady." Her throat dry, she mutely passed him the tie. He gently drew the top section of her hair back perfectly and tied it off with tighter loops than she had achieved.

Wanting to get away as fast as possible, she turned as soon as it was done, thinking he had removed his hand from her hair already. As it turned out, he had still been drawing it away, and even though her turn hadn't been violent his fingers were caught. She suddenly found herself much closer than she ought to have been, almost chest to chest, with his hand resting on the back of her head. He stared at her, slightly shocked, and she felt the breath catch in her throat. They were inches apart. If he leaned over even a little…

It took her completely by surprise when he did. Swiftly and without hesitation, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. The one hand caught in her hair tangled softly there while his other arm wrapped around her waist. Shock held her still for a second, before she tentatively looped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. He held her for a minute, then they broke apart.

"Forgive me, lady," he said quietly. "I should not have done that. But I couldn't…" He sighed and looked down into her eyes, drawing her closer with the arm wrapped around her waist. He lent down and brushed away the locks of hair with a gentle finger so he could whisper into her ear, "I couldn't resist."

**-End Flashback-**

"And it escalated from there." It wasn't a question. Lorlyn nodded, her head resting on Akkarin's shoulder again. "That was a whole two months ago, Lorlyn."

"I know," she said quietly.

"Back when we were still arguing over accepting Sonea…" Akkarin said quietly. "And I, of course, always completely oblivious until the end."

She looked up at him. "Don't say it like that, Akkarin."

"Well were you ever going to tell me?" he asked angrily. "Or was it going to be your secret forever?"

Lorlyn's eyes filled again. "I'm sorry, Akkarin," she sniffed. "I would have told you…I swear I would have…"

Akkarin sighed and rubbed his eyes with a hand. "I know, I know. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be angry."

Lorlyn gasped suddenly. "Oh, Akkarin, please, I'm begging you-"

"What?" Akkarin asked, suddenly more concerned.

"Please don't tell my parents," Lorlyn begged in a whisper. "Or anyone else. Please?"

"Of course not." Akkarin hugged her tightly. "You need to sort this out, Lorlyn."

She nodded. "I know. I will." She got up off his lap and walked towards the door. "I'll see you later, Akkarin," she murmured quietly. "I have to meet the others."

Akkarin smiled faintly at her. "I'll see you later," he repeated, making it a promise.

She stepped out of the door and for one glorious moment the sun lit her with it's fingers of fire, brightening her robes and hair exactly like it had the moment Akkarin had first realised he was in love with her. A deep pang of loneliness resonated through his heart. He had confronted her about Takan, but it seemed they weren't any closer to a happy conclusion.


	27. Foreign

When first I came to this land, I was uncomfortable with people's stares. Now I have learned to ignore them. No stare or sidelong look can break my perfect composure now.

When first I came to this land, I would hear the whispers of the other servants and despair. "What strange skin!" "His kind are untrustworthy, you know." "Look at him staring! What an odd creature." "I don't like the way his eyes look at you." "Stop talking, he's coming!"

I felt like curling up and dying, or running away home. But home was gone now, had been gone for a long time. The old memories of my mother stirring a pot on the fire, of my father hoeing the fields, my sister running through the garden's long grass and bringing me bunches of flowers with which to braid her hair…they crowded round my head as I lay and waited for sleep, taunted me with what could never be again. As I fell asleep the memories turned to nightmares, images of the day when Dakova attacked my home, killed my family, took me prisoner…

The long days dragged as I tried to adjust to this new life. Working as a servant could never be as hard as being a slave, even though the other men and women employed by the Guild complained as if it was. They would never know true hardship. I was and still am always grateful to be here, working and living. Cooking is my escape; I can forget the world when I cook, and back then I could just forget all about my pain and hurt and just _focus. _

Now I have accepted my place. The servants have grown used to my strange appearance, and they never trouble me. I have grown used to the easier life of a servant.

Tonight, hiding in the shadows at the back of the dining room as I watch Master and his friend eating dinner, I wonder at the different turns my life has taken. When I was younger, I would never have even dreamed of coming to Kyralia, of knowing or even liking a Kyralian, let alone owing him my life. I wonder as I haven't for a while at the difference in our appearance; something so unimportant to him, yet for unknown reasons so important to me. I have dark skin, maybe pasty from its stint in this land. Holding my hand next to his, you would see the difference from dark to almost white, and my brown, wiry tangles of hair next to his midnight black tresses, falling like a waterfall while all mine do is knot.

I don't know why this is so important. I suppose, used to it as I am, I still cannot help but compare myself to those who call themselves Kyralian, and notice my difference. How odd to be here, I think sometimes.

The memories of home still taunt me, though, at night while I dream. The nightmares are less frequent, but home is still what I dream of. Always keeping the perfect mask of contentment is not easy, but it is the only way. I have no way back to 'home' now; this foreign land and it's strange, foreign people are all that is left.


	28. Sorrow

**A/N/: So, the story continues...I don't know if I really like this chapter. It didn't come as easily as some of the others...Ah well, enjoy.**

_0_

Theme: Sorrow

Characters: Akkarin, Lorlyn

Setting: AU

_0_

Today Akkarin had decided to walk through the gardens on his way to the front steps of the University, which was where he met the carriage that took him to the palace. The day was bright and sunny, but it didn't melt the ice in his heart. Ever since he had talked to her about Takan, Lorlyn hadn't been back to the Residence; nor had she spoken to him or tried to make any other kind of contact. Desperately worried, he had talked to the group of women who campaigned for equality with her. They had told him that lately she hadn't been attending either meetings or their social gatherings and none of them had spoken to her. Akkarin suspected that the last was not strictly true; when Rolanda had told him this, Sanea, who was sitting next to her, had unconsciously taken on a slightly guilty expression. It was mirrored on both Matini and Emiliana's faces, and Akkarin knew Lorlyn was closest to them.

But why would Lorlyn talk to them, then make sure they didn't speak to him? Was she really so angry at him for knowing? It wasn't as if he could help it. She seemed to be retreating from him, hiding and avoiding him.

Something caught his eye; a flash of blue. His heart jumped, and he turned quickly. Lorlyn was walking away along one of the tiny, semi overgrown paths through the garden, her head hanging slightly and her feet trailing. Akkarin changed course immediately to follow her. He would find out what was wrong, even if it killed him.

"Lorlyn." He laid a hand on her shoulder. She turned round and stared at him, eyes opening slightly in surprise. "Lorlyn, where have you been?" Akkarin asked quietly, reaching to hold both of her shoulders and looking down into her eyes with a concerned expression.

She looked down and away. "Nowhere special. Just doing my job."

"I haven't seen you for days!"

"I've been busy," Lorlyn whispered, still looking away.

Akkarin sighed. "Lorlyn…" He pulled her close and stroked her hair a little. "I know you haven't wanted to talk to me, but I'm worried about you."

Lorlyn pulled away. "I'm fine, Akkarin." He raised a brow at her. "Well, not fine. But I'm alright."

"I'm so sorry, Lorlyn. About everything."

She smiled sorrowfully at him. "I know. It's not your fault. I just have to get over it, I suppose."

He sighed, then stroked her cheek. "Come see me soon, Lorlyn," he said quietly, then kissed her forehead. She nodded, and he turned away regretfully, needing to get to the carriage. As he looked back, he observed her walking away, slowly and with one trailing hand stroking over the nearby flowers. He wanted to run back, hug her tightly and tell her it would all be fine, he'd find a way to fix all her problems. But he ached at the thought; fixing her problems would mean letting her go, and his selfish heart refused to let his hope of her returning his feelings die.

But just watching her so sad made him feel awful. Acting on a whim, he followed her again, disregarding the fact that he should be getting back to the palace. He found her again sitting on a bench, absentmindedly picking the leaves off a bush near her. He didn't approach her, just watched her from behind a tree. _I thought falling in love would break that fortitude, and look what's happened. Her very shoulders sag with sorrow. _Akkarin sighed. He had to help her, no matter what the cost to himself.


	29. Happiness

**A/N/: I'm sorry. I know I haven't posted in **_**forever**_**, but this storyline has been giving me trouble... Anyway, now it's sorted, and here's the next instalment! Enjoy.**

_0_

Theme: Happiness

Characters: Akkarin, Lorlyn

Setting: AU

_0_

After that day watching Lorlyn, Akkarin had battled with his feelings diligently until he had come to the only reasonable conclusion. She didn't love him, and she probably never would. He was supposed to be her best friend; he was supposed to help her through anything and everything.

_True happiness, _he thought as he walked towards the Residence, _is loving someone who loves you back. This one-sided love is going nowhere. I have to sacrifice my own feelings to make her happy, and in the end it will benefit both of us. _

He walked through the door with a smile on his face. In two of the guestroom chairs were two people he knew well. Lorlyn's mother and father smiled up at him as he entered the room. "There you are, Akkarin," her father boomed, standing and shaking his hand with a bone-breaking grip. "How are you?"

"Well, thank you," Akkarin replied, waving him back to his chair. "I hope you weren't waiting too long."

"Not at all, not at all." Lorlyn's father, Lord Teran, settled himself back into his chair happily. "Now, we were both very surprised at your summons," he waved away Akkarin's protest at his word choice, "what did you want to talk about?"

Akkarin took a deep breath. He'd decided to tell them about Lorlyn and Takan, even though she'd told him not to. Allowing them to know might make them angry with Lorlyn; but he'd considered it, and decided that knowing if they would ever agree to a marriage would be better than giving it all up on an assumption. "A matter of slight...delicacy has come to my attention, concerning your daughter," he started, hating the formality of his tone. Both parents took on a worried expression and leaned in closer. "Lorlyn trusted me with some information a few weeks ago, which I promised I would not reveal to anyone else. However, lately this information has caused a worrying change in her behaviour, one that distresses me greatly."

"What exactly is the nature of this information?" Lorlyn's father asked gravely.

Akkarin hesitated. "She's in love," he stated simply.

For a moment, Lorlyn's father looked relieved. "Well, that's not so bad!" Then he caught Akkarin's expression. "Oh, it is that bad. Well, who's she gone and fallen in love with, then? Some awful old man or something?"

Akkarin shook his head. "No. My servant."

Both parents were quiet for a moment. Then Lord Teran burst out, "Your _servant_? How could Lorlyn fall in love with a servant?"

"I don't know," Akkarin said carefully.

"Well, this is...this is just..." Lord Teran rose and paced in an agitated manner. "Now, you'll understand that I am not a prejudiced man, Akkarin, but really, it is only acceptable to be at the most friends with your servants, not in love with them! My daughter can't marry a servant! I know I've been lenient with her, but really..." He rested his face in his hand for a moment, then declared, "I'm afraid I must speak with her. Forgive me for leaving on such an abrupt note." He strode to the door and vanished through it before Akkarin could get one word out to call him back.

His heart sank. "Lorlyn's going to murder me," he whispered.

He felt a pat on his shoulder. "You did the right thing, Akkarin," Lady Teran said. "I know it's hard, but it's the way of the world. No matter how much you may wish for true love to conquer all, life has a way of getting in between. You and I know that Lorlyn will, eventually, be happier knowing that there was never going to be any future with this servant, and she can resign herself to that." Lady Teran sighed unhappily. "Ah, the sacrifices we all must make. But she'll be happier in the long run. Forgive me, I too must speak to her, or at least make sure she and her father don't kill one another." He nodded, and she too left hurriedly.

Akkarin sat, depressed and brooding. He'd known it would probably end like this; though Lorlyn's parents were very lenient, not even the most loving parents from the Houses would let their child marry a servant. He supposed Lady Teran was right, and Lorlyn probably would be happier in the long run.

_0_

Later that day, Akkarin was sitting in the library, pretending to work. He still couldn't think of anything but Lorlyn. Vaguely he noted loud noises coming from downstairs. _I wonder what Takan's doing down there? _he thought idly.

With a loud bang, the door flew open with enough force to hit the wall. Akkarin jumped around, startled, and was confronted by the angriest woman he had ever seen.

"I told you!" Lorlyn shrieked, "_I told you not to tell them_!"

_Ah_, thought Akkarin. _Here comes the part where I am murdered. Goodbye, cruel world. I leave all my worldly possessions to Takan. _"Lorlyn, I can explain-"

"Oh, you can _explain_?" she howled, stalking towards him. "You can _explain _the fact that you purposely told my parents what you swore you wouldn't? How can you _sit there_, looking so innocent, when you just ruined...ruined..._everything_!"

Akkarin stood up. "Listen, Lorlyn, I didn't mean to hurt you, I just thought we needed to do something-"

"Well, brilliant choice Akkarin, astounding!" Lorlyn snapped. "Just tell the two people in the whole world who are most likely to tell me I'm the biggest idiot since idiots were invented!" She paused suddenly and looked suspiciously at him. "That's what you were doing, isn't it?" she asked dangerously. "You told the two people who were most likely to put a stop to everything!"

Akkarin gaped at her. "No, no! It's nothing like that! If you'd just let me-"

"Of all the cruel, heartless things!" Lorlyn screeched. "You're just-just-" She faltered, livid, then picked up the nearest object, a heavy Vin tome, and hurled it across the room at him. He ducked, which only served to make her angrier. "You heartless, spiteful, callous, pitiless, brutal, merciless..." The list went on, and as she pronounced each word she found another book to throw. Just as Akkarin began to wonder if she could find a word for each book in his library, she stopped. He looked out from under his raised hands to find her standing still, staring at him desperately. "Why, Akkarin?" she said, her voice barely audible. "Why did you tell them?"

"They should know, Lorlyn," he said, moving towards her carefully. "If they had said yes, you would have been overjoyed. You would have been happy. That's all I was trying to do. Make you happy."

"Make me happy?" she gasped. "How can you say that? You actually believed for even one second that my parents would approve of-of-this?" She turned away, pressing her fingers to her temples. "Of all the godforsaken...Akkarin, you are the most idiotic..."

"I'm so sorry, Lorlyn," Akkarin said, catching her arm. "I only wanted to cure you of the sorrow you've been in for the last few days..."

Lorlyn glared at him, and then threw his hand off. "Well, you haven't. In fact, you've made it worse! I'm never going to be _happy_, Akkarin, don't you understand? From the day I fell in love, I knew I was never going to feel true joy. I'm going to wallow in misery and sorrow forever!" She was crying now, the tears spilling unchecked from her eyes, but her voice was strong as she shouted, "This is what they told me, the others. Both love and men...I'd be better off without both!" She ran, sobbing, from the room, and Akkarin made no attempt to catch her.

Takan ran past the door, then doubled back and entered. "Master, I'm sorry I didn't announce-"

"Just go after her, Takan," Akkarin said quietly. "She needs you more than me right now."

The servant hesitated, then bowed and ran off. Akkarin rose and looked out of the window. Lorlyn barely made it out of the door before Takan caught up with her, and despite the fact that they were in the middle of the grounds his servant pulled her close and held her tightly. He then led her, reluctant as she was, back through the door and out of sight. Akkarin's face set into a frown. His heart had nearly broken at Lorlyn's words. _She _will _be happy_,he vowed to himself, _I'll make sure of it._

_0_


	30. Under The Rain

_0_

Theme: Under The Rain

Characters: Takan, Akkarin, Lorlyn

Setting: AU

_0_

The rain had almost drowned the Guild gardens, placing them under a constant barrage of assaulting water. Takan had stared out at it blankly for over an hour, contemplating what he was about to do.

He had gone over many things within his head over the past few days, had tried to set some things straight. He had come out with some conflicting answers. He knew he loved Lorlyn; and yet he could never make her happy, only miserable. He knew that he should end it, end their attachment to each other; and yet he couldn't stand the thought of seeing her with someone else. So, in the dead of night, he had decided. He would break their attachment, but he would never be here to see her fall for another. Finally resolved, he had packed a case and now he stood looking out at the rain, wondering desperately what to write. The droplets trailed slowly down the pane of glass, and reminded him of tears. He pushed the thought away, picked up the pen and wrote. When he finished, he read the words back to himself and cringed. They were not what he wanted to say. They were what he _had _to say. He had to make sure Lorlyn believed that he didn't love her anymore; then she wouldn't come looking for him.

He sighed and, dropping the small note on the table where he knew Akkarin would see it instantly, picked up the case, moving to the door and letting himself out of the Residence, not turning back. He walked between the high gates, hood dripping over his head, and made his way slowly through the city to the Marina. There he had booked a place on a ship heading far away. He hadn't even bothered to check where or to which country it was going. What he needed was to start again, and this would give that chance to him.

He stood on the deck of the boat as it pulled away, feeling the sea breeze starting to ruffle his hair and watching his whole life of almost ten years slip away. _I wonder if I'll ever come here again?_

_0_

Later in the day Akkarin returned to the Residence, letting his protective shield drop as he entered the house. Even though he was completely dry, he still ran a hand over his hand and shook his shoulders a little. He hated the rain.

The house was silent, and Akkarin knew instantly that Takan wasn't there. He tried not to worry; obviously his servant had to go out sometimes. He'd probably gone to buy some more food from the Market. But something made Akkarin uneasy, a feeling that increased tenfold when he saw the small piece of paper lying on the guestroom table, something he was sure had not been there before. He moved to it and picked it up, spying writing on its surface.

It read:

_I am sorry. I do not know how to express these feelings to you both in person. I wish I did not have to do this so harshly, and yet I see no other way._

_For I have found that I do not love you anymore. Either of you. I am going far away. Please, do not try to find me._

_Takan_

Akkarin stared at it and re-read it several times before the words began to sink in. He was gone. Takan was _gone_. The man he had relied upon for years was suddenly gone. Akkarin felt a void inside himself, an empty space he was suddenly sure he would not be able to fill. Takan had been his trusted ally, his friend through thick and thin. He had cared for him and looked after him and provided him with a companionship different to anyone else's.

And then, on top of his pain and loss, there would be Lorlyn's. For there was no other he could be referring to. Akkarin chose that moment to look up through the window, and as if thinking of her had made her appear, he saw Lorlyn hurrying through the rain to his door, droplets evaporating as they met her shield. He looked at her and felt despair creep into his heart. _How am I ever going to tell her? _


End file.
